Life After Wilson
by cantstopobsessing
Summary: Five months after the series finale - please don't read if you haven't watched it yet,don't want to be responsible for spoiling it- Wilson lost his battle, and everyone is trying to cope with the loss, including Cuddy.
1. Chapter 1

Cuddy clutched her chest in surprise when she reached the porch to her house and saw Foreman sitting near her window. He smiled sheepishly at her. "Sorry if I scared you."

She arched her eyebrow at him and dug for her keys, "ever hear of a phone?" she asked in the same stern voice he had grown so used to hearing from her using on House.

He pushed himself up, "good to see you too," he responded. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"Sorry, of course, it's good to see you. Yeah, come in." She unlocked the door and opened it wide enough for the two of them to step in and she dumped her purse on the couch that was up against the wall on the right side of her front door and walked into her kitchen. "I'm dying of thirst, want anything?" she asked when walking towards her kitchen.

"Water would be good," he answered back, taking a seat on the chair that was on the side of her couch. He mused over how similar her living room looked. It was just like her office at Princeton-Plainsboro.

She walked back in and handed him a water bottle and took a seat on her couch, opening her own as he did the same.

"How did you find me?"

"Wilson. He knew your address-"

"How is he doing?"

Foreman looked uncomfortable and positioned himself to face her in the chair. "He is actually the reason I'm here," Foreman said as delicate as he could.

"I haven't heard from him in seven months. What does he want? And why did he send you?" Cuddy took a drink of her water while waiting to hear his answer.

"He didn't send me," Foreman continued in the same tone, placing his water bottle on the coffee table in between them.

"Foreman, why are you using that tone with me? I've heard that tone before. You use that on patients when we have bad news for them," she said nervously, setting her own water down.

Foreman took a long unsteady breath and looked at her with sympathetic eyes. "About six months ago, we all found out that Wilson had cancer." Cuddy put her hand over her mouth in shock. "He told," Foreman stopped himself from mentioning House. "He told us all when he knew for sure, but, by then, it was already stage two." A tear slid down Cuddy's cheek which was stopped by her hand.

"He fought a little by trying this really radical procedure which seemed to give him a little bit more time. But, a couple days ago-"

"No!" Cuddy screamed out, uncovering her mouth. "No! He didn't! No!" she looked down at the coffee table feeling like everything she knew was different. "Oh God, Wilson," she was rocking back and forth, wrapping her arms around herself. She wanted to believe this was all a dream, it had to be. The last time they talked on the phone he sounded fine, both joking and laughing together. Then he had to rush off because House had come over. She looked up at Foreman, who looked back with pain in his eyes, having been through all the sorrow himself. "How is...House taking this?"

Foreman inhaled deeply and held it there. She didn't know about him either, and he wasn't all that sure he wanted her to know. She already had one piece of bad news, he didn't want to feel responsible for giving her another piece. One that may affect her worse than Wilson. Although they had a terrible fall out, it was still House. "Heeee-" Foreman struggled for what to say, knowing he had to tell her something. He's worked with House for so long and managed to pick up on his lying on the spot skill that House was such a master at. But, now, in a situation where it seemed to matter most, he choked.

"He's so high and strung out on every drug imaginable because he can't handle the pain?" Cuddy guessed.

"Yeah, yeah," Foreman nodded his head. If House were still around, he imagined that would be the truth. "Listen, his funeral. It's this Friday."

"I don't know if I should." Cuddy said, tears still flowing down. "I mean with everything that happened-"

"Lisa," Foreman addressed her by first name which felt foreign to both of them. "Whatever feelings you felt leaving the hospital doesn't matter anymore. None of that does. This is about Wilson. He was a friend to all of us. He deserves to have us all there to say good bye."

Cuddy inhaled and exhaled slowly. Saying good bye to Wilson is something she hadn't imagined ever having to do. When things blew up with she and House, she pleaded with him to keep in touch, which he kept his word on.

Except with this, he gave her no warning at all. She had to do this for him.

"Where is it going to be held?" Cuddy got everything she needed from Foreman and he left soon after.

On the day of, she didn't make it to the synagogue, but arrived on time for the burial. Every time she was out the door to leave, a memory would pop up and make her cry, so she had to go back and re-apply her make-up.

After an hour of doing this, she gave up and went without any on. She dropped Rachel off at a friend of hers to watch until she was back. Rachel didn't understand why she was dressed all in black, and wouldn't stop crying. "It's nothing, honey," was her answer she kept telling her.

She felt guilty for saying it each time. Losing Wilson was far from nothing.

Her mind went to House. She ran the high risk of seeing him there, but, what Foreman said was right. This is about Wilson. She hoped he would respect that enough to leave her alone.

When she got there she saw all the familiar faces, except House's.

She suddenly felt bad for him, and Wilson. He wasn't there to say good bye.

She stood next to Cameron who she hadn't seen the longest out of all of them. But still gave them all silent hugs. She didn't know what to say, and, neither did they.

They all watched as Wilson was lowered into the ground and they spread out in groups. There were some of Wilson's patients there to show respect that he was able to help put in remission. The Doctors at Princeton-Plainsboro wished he would have been able to do the same for himself.

Cuddy heard from all of them that it was good to see her, and she couldn't go without mentioning him any longer. "I'm surprised House didn't show up to this." They all exchanged awkward, sad glances and she caught Cameron look over to a tombstone with her eyes glassy, tears forming at the mention of him. "What? What's over there?"

They lowered their heads when seeing Cuddy walk over to the tombstone next to where they put Wilson. She fell to her knees when she saw the name of who was there.

Gregory House.

Her hand shook uncontrollably when she reached her right hand to touch his name. It wasn't possible. How could this be? Wilson and House? Both gone?

She scanned for the date. May 21, 2012. That was nearly five months ago, almost to the day. She wiped her tears that blurred her vision from seeing anything else. She saw it said something about him but couldn't make it out. She continued to wipe tears away until she was able to see it. Under his name read: "Not always the nicest guy, but, a genius Doctor. He will be missed and was a beloved friend."

Cuddy stared at the last part, knowing that meant Wilson.

House was gone.

She couldn't hold herself up anymore and dropped her head down to House's tombstone, sobbing. Hurting for herself, for him, and for Wilson. Who had to go through his fight alone.

"How did it happen?" she asked his old team who were now closer to her for comfort if she allowed. They couldn't make out what she said due to her crying, so waited to see if she would repeat it. "How did it happen?" she asked, lifting her head up.

"He," Chase started with sorrow, "he was in a building that caught fire. We think he may have been trying to get out, but, it...exploded before he did."

"Nooooooo!" Cuddy screamed out, hitting her fist against his tombstone in anger and laid her head back down to cry.

A few yards down, hiding behind a building where flowers were being sold stood House. He had a long trench coat on and a cap with a snap in the front that he wore on occasion, to help him not be noticed. Though the cane and limp may be an indicator of who he was, he still took the risk. Wilson warned him not to do it. But, he had to say good bye. So, he did it from a distance.

What he wasn't expecting was Cuddy.

He watched as she broke down multiple times during Wilson's burial, but now, she was crying over what she thought was his grave.

He wanted to scream out to her that he was okay. But knew that would be a mistake. He knew the consequences of faking his own death. Even his Mother thought he was gone. That means Cuddy has to keep believing it also.

He couldn't take being there any longer. He longed for Wilson. He wanted him to be right there with him to not have to witness this alone.

For the first time in House's life, he doubted even in what he believed in. He looked all around, wondering if Wilson's spirit was somehow there with him.

His thought was pulled away when he heard Cuddy scream out his name. He couldn't take it anymore. He placed his cane that he was leaning on the whole time he was there, out a step and turned to leave. Not thinking of how he might be exposing himself by leaving before they did.

Cameron bent down and reached for Cuddy and started guiding her to her car, asking if she wanted a ride home and some company for a while. She agreed and thanked Cameron.

They left Foreman and Chase standing near their old bosses grave. Chase hit Foreman's arm in surprise. Foreman looked at Chase with sad eyes and saw Chase looking up ahead with a surprised and dumbfounded look on his face. "What?" Foreman asked him.

"Could that be-?" Chase asked like a kid at Christmas, thinking he just spotted the toy he wanted under the tree.

Foreman saw Chase pointing straight ahead and followed his finger. When he did, he saw a tall, lengthy figure, wearing jeans with what looked like sneakers from their view, a long coat, and the thing that caught their attention the most.

A cane, and a limp from his right leg.

Foreman smiled, letting out a chuckle, while shaking his head. "You son of a bitch."...


	2. Chapter 2

House reached the apartment that Wilson rented for the two of them, that was just in Wilson's name, that they found outside of New Jersey. It was close enough for Wilson to travel to whatever hospital he wanted for treatment if he chose to that he was familiar with, while House could spent that time inside or head off in the direction of New York for the day. He wasn't well known there so it was safe for him to be.

He unlocked the front door and closed it behind him. He took in his surroundings, sensing it felt more empty than it had been since Wilson passed.

He was buried today; James Wilson was gone, and House was all alone.

He threw his keys on the floor, not caring that they were there and not on the table. That would be the kind of thing that he'd get yelled at by Wilson for. As much as he hated his nitpicking, he'd give anything to hear it right now.

He sat on the far right of the couch that came from Wilson's old apartment, and turned his head to stare at the far left, where it happened. Where Wilson took his last breath, while clutching House's right arm, trying to reassure House he would be okay without him.

He shook his head, looking down at his feet in disbelief. The one moment that Wilson was supposed to spend thinking back on his life, reminding himself that he will be okay, that it will be over before he knows it, his suffering will be over, he was reassuring House.

"You're a moron, Wilson," he said out loud into the space that surrounded him.

He slid down to make himself more comfortable and he extended his legs in front of him. He felt exhausted, physically and emotionally from the events of the day. He let his head drop and hit the couch cushion that a second ago was against his back and let his eyes close.

"You know you can't stay here forever."

House lifted his head and opened his eyes, looking in the direction of the voice that just spoke and saw Wilson sitting where he died.

"You're dead."

"You always were a keen observer." House smiled. Wilson looked the way he did before he got bad. Before he lost the weight, before any treatment, before he even told House his diagnosis. "Although," Wilson continued, "I suppose you can stay here. You can use your fake ID we made up for you and go on renting as 'Richard Dickerson,' if you wanted."

They smiled at each other, remembering the night they spent drinking, coming up with that name, then House's smile slowly faded. "No," House shook his head and looked away from Wilson into his lap. "I couldn't stay here," he said softly, looking back at Wilson. "Not after what happened here."

"So, where are you going to go?" Wilson showed House his big puppy dog brown eyes. Whenever Wilson was worried for House's well being, his eyes always ended up looking like they belonged on a puppy.

"Will you stop?" House snapped angrily. "Even when you're dead you won't get off my back!"

Wilson looked away from House, knowing he was lashing out because he was in pain.

There was a knock at the door, and Wilson looked over at House who he saw was looking back down, unmoved, unaffected by the door. "Are you going to get that?"

"No," House answered.

He kept his eyes down, and felt Wilson looking at him. House couldn't glance back up. He knew it wasn't really Wilson there. He'd give anything to have him with him. But, Wilson was dead. "House," Wilson said. He reluctantly looked back at him when hearing his name. They both still heard the persisting knocking that they were ignoring. "I'm sorry I got sick. I should have seen the signs. Maybe I-"

"You should have! You saved everyone else you could! When it came to you..you were a crappy Oncologist!" he snapped.

"I know, and I-"

House jerked and opened his eyes. "Is anyone in there! I'm coming in if I don't get an answer!" House turned his head to see the other side of the couch, and he saw he sat alone, Wilson was gone. It was only a dream.

He got up to answer the door and saw the landlord on the other side. "You cleaning the place up?"

"No," House said flatly, then turned to look around, "you think it's dirty?"

"I mean clean it out." House gazed back at him. "The renter is gone, is he not? Dead?" House winced. He can handle being talked to insensitively, but, when Wilson was the subject, it bothered him.

"He paid for the whole month."

"Yeah, and the month is almost up. We need to get the stuff out of here, get ready for new renters. Unless...you want to rent then-"

"No."

"Okay then. I'll come back in four days. Take what you want, don't take what you don't want. Either way, whatever is left, we will take and throw out."

House closed the door on him, not being able to stand looking or hearing him anymore. He turned around to face the living room. The pain in his thigh was too much. His cane was out of reach, not anticipating the excruciating pain that took over, so he slid his body down the wall to sit on the floor until it subsided.

He punched the bottom of the table that was next to him in frustration and saw the baseball that was on the table fall to the ground. He reached for it and picked it up in his left hand. He turned it around and around to analyze it, bringing him back to the day they got it.

It wasn't too soon after House faked his own death, when Wilson told him that he wanted to go see a baseball game. "I always wanted to catch a foul ball, or, home run ball, maybe I'll get lucky!" Wilson called all the shots so, House bought clothes and a hat to cover himself with, in case they ended up on television, and tickets to the next game held where the Mets played; the game, Mets vs. Giants.

In the bottom of the sixth inning, a Giant hit a home run and Wilson stood up, tried out his luck, and to both of their surprise, he caught it. House smiled, happy for his friend who was flashing it all around him for the crowd to see it was him. "I did it, House!" Wilson exclaimed in disbelief.

"Yeah, who knew you had some luck." Wilson held his hand out that had the ball to House. "What, you want me to hold your stuff for you now?"

"No, it's yours."

"But, we came here so YOU can catch a ball. Why are you giving it to me?" House pressed on, not taking the ball from Wilson until he told him why.

"I wanted to come here, to catch a ball, for you," he shrugged, "you love to play with things, it's how you process ANYTHING in life. You can't go back to the hospital to get all that stuff you had. So...I wanted to give you this. And, whenever you use it, throw it up against the wall, and probably break something, knowing you, I want you to think of me. And this day."

He placed the ball in House's hand and looked back out onto the field, smiling. House watched him do this, then looked down at the baseball in his hand, smirked, and tossed it up and caught it.

House looked at the couch after remembering that moment, to where he saw Wilson sitting in his dream. He gripped tightly onto the ball upset that those shared moments would never happen again, and chucked it at the television in the corner, breaking the screen. "Dammit, Wilson, you bastard."

House broke down and cried...


	3. Chapter 3

Cuddy sat at her desk in the hospital she was currently employed; thinking of all she'd learned over the last couple of days. She still could not believe both House and Wilson were gone. It seemed like a cruel joke or worse, a nightmare. She'd been seeing a therapist for some time, working on her issues and hoping to move towards forgiving House. She'd hoped to see things from his point of view in an effort to better understand his actions after the break up. Cuddy confessed to her therapist that she wanted to see House. She thought she reached the point where she felt comfortable taking small steps towards forgiveness. Now, she thought that no longer mattered.

The hardest part about the aftermath of the crash, besides relocating, and finding another hospital, was losing him. He had always been an important part of her life, and then he was gone. After the crash, she'd requested a restraining order on him and then she left, Wilson kept in touch with her with updates on House's life. She knew that Wilson never told House about her therapy or her desire to see him because he believed it was her decision to contact him directly. However, now that House was gone, there was nothing more she could do.

"Lisa?...Lisa?"

Cuddy looked up from the paper that lay on her desk which she had been staring at when she heard one of the nurses call out her name. "Sorry, I didn't hear you come in."

Sarah looked at her sympathetically, "Why don't you go home? You deserve to take some time for yourself. I'm sure Dr. Sandberg wouldn't mind taking over for a few days if needed, he's been a Dean, and he knows what needs to be done. You've gone through a rough few days, finding out a friend and an ex have both passed away. You should take some time for yourself."

Cuddy thought about Sarah's words. House was known as her "ex" not the brilliant doctor he was, not the great friend he'd been to her or the sexy, slightly crazy boyfriend who made her feel special in his own way.

"Yeah, maybe I will take a few days off." She stood up and Sarah shifted her stance to give Cuddy room to get to her jacket that was hanging up. "Can you let Dr. Sandberg know I'll be gone?"

"Sure," Sarah responded.

Cuddy smiled at her, and left her office and the hospital.

When she got home, not having to worry about Rachel, who was still in school, she went straight to the mailbox. She glanced through it noticing a package at the bottom. She couldn't imagine what it was as she hadn't ordered anything recently. Without even going through it, she tossed the mail which she assumed was nothing but bills onto the counter along with her keys and purse. She focused on the package and noticed there was no return address which made her a bit nervous opening it but curiosity got the best of her. When she opened it a disc fell out along with a piece of paper.

She unfolded the paper, immediately recognized the handwriting despite it being sloppier than the last time she'd seen it.

The note was from Wilson and it read: "Dear Cuddy, please watch this DVD. I have some things I need to tell you. It's all on here. Love always, your friend, Wilson."

She wiped away a tear and picked up the disc, her hand shaking as she placed it in the DVD player and turned on the television. She took a deep breath before she hit the play button on the remote. Seconds later, she saw Wilson on the screen, looking thin and emaciated. She bit her lip as she was trying to ignore the tears streaming down at the sight of him.

"Hi, Cuddy," he said, pausing to look into the camera. "Sorry for the way I look. I skipped breakfast this morning, if I had known it would have a drastic effect, I would have reconsidered." The left side of his mouth curved up into a half smile and Cuddy let out a laugh through her tears.

"I'm also sorry for not telling you what was going on. I've told you once before about my patients and how difficult it is for them to tell people about their illness because suddenly every conversation is about that and as it turns out, I felt the same. Now, since it's so late into my illness, I regret not telling you. I just didn't want it to be a shock when you found out. It shouldn't have been like this. You were a good friend to me, and I'm sorry it happened this way," he said, pausing slightly before he continued.

"If you are wondering how I got this to you after the fact, well, I explained to my mailman to hold off on mailing it until he heard of my passing. It sounds morbid, but, when you have been around House as long as I have, insane things sound completely sane," he sighed. Cuddy wiped away her tears that were blurring her vision at the mention of House.

"That actually brings me to the next thing I need to tell you. I need you to do one last favor for me. It's a big one and I hope you are ready for it, because I know how...well, I should tell you first. By now, I assume you went to my funeral, which means you also learned about House." Cuddy paused the DVD and ran into the bathroom for kleenex and a trash can and brought them back to the couch with her.

She hit play when she was ready and saw him sigh again. "The thing you need to know is that, when House found out about my diagnosis, he refused to let me just give up. I was about to do something very stupid on my own, I was going to treat myself in a way that would have ended up killing me instead of making me better. Like the stubborn bastard he is," Wilson let out a smile, "he didn't let me do it alone. He told me to go to his apartment, and he would do the treatment. He was there for me, the whole time, every step of the way and he didn't let me quit. Even when I told him I was done fighting, when it didn't work the way I had hoped, he tried to convince me not to give up. Eventually after getting a pep-talk from Foreman and Thirteen, I decided to continue with treatment for a while."

Cuddy smiled that he didn't give up and continued to listen. "But House was well...House and his prank resulted in him having to go back to jail and serve out the remaining six months of his original sentence. House was devastated because you see...I only had five months left to live." Wilson continued, "House, tried to do everything he could to avoid going back to jail," his look turned from neutral while telling a story to hurt. "He knew if he did, I would have been alone."

Cuddy's lip quivered. "A few days later, we noticed he'd gone missing. Foreman and I were concerned and so we went to his apartment and found clues that led us to him, to the building he was at; the one that was on fire."

Cuddy grabbed another tissue. "I saw it happen, Cuddy. He saw me," Wilson was getting teary eyed himself. "I saw the explosion right in front of me and I kept thinking 'if only we got there sooner. If only we started looking for him earlier, we might have saved him. The body was taken to the morgue, and they confirmed it was him. It seemed so surreal to me. At his funeral, I gave his eulogy, I was so angry at him." Cuddy saw Wilson's expression lift from sorrow to happiness, and she looked confused at her screen. "I'm in the middle of my rant about what a selfish bastard he was, when my phone started beeping. It was a simple text message with the words, 'shut up you idiot.'" Wilson chuckled, "I knew, automatically who it was from." Wilson smiled brightly into the camera and wiped a tear that started falling. Cuddy scooted to the edge of her seat, her heart racing with anticipation of what he was about to say next. "The son of a bitch had us all fooled. He faked his own death, switching dental records with the body that was at the morgue, to avoid going to prison. He destroyed his entire life, letting go of everything he had, just, to spend the time I had left doing whatever I wanted, with him."

Cuddy cried out loud. House was still alive! She paused the DVD and tried to compose herself before she was ready to hear what Wilson had to say next. She hit play again.

"I know when you left, he spiraled out of control. I don't blame you for what you did, no one did. They all would have done the same. But, I swear to you, Cuddy, he's not that guy anymore. For four months he has been tending to my every need, doing whatever I asked, despite it going against everything he believed in. No matter what it was, he would do it for me. He showed that caring side of himself. I know that you have been going through therapy to try and deal with the events that happened after you broke up, to see if you could ever forgive and see him again-and I'm happy that you are doing that. For yourself and now, for my own selfish reason that I'm about to ask you to do..." he sighed.

"House confessed to me that the reason he was in that warehouse was because he'd wanted to kill himself. He'd intended to overdose on morphine and die there alone next to a drug addict former patient who had, himself, died of an overdose hours earlier. If it hadn't been for the fire and experiences he had, hallucinations he said, of people from his past telling him to fight, which he eventually did, he would have killed himself. He has been doing okay, up until recently. As I became weaker, he seemed to be getting weaker as well, and more angry. I'm afraid that, after I'm gone, he may do something stupid."

Cuddy's breath caught in her throat, suddenly afraid for House.

"I've included the address for the apartment we're living in as I speak. He should be there, for the rest of the month. I know it's a lot to ask but please find and make sure it isn't too late. He's lost you and I don't think he can handle losing me too. I understand if you aren't ready to see him and if that is the case please let Foreman know. I don't think he can make it all alone, Cuddy. No matter how many times he has been insisting he'll be fine he's lying. And, if he ever does decide to resurface as himself, he may need help with an attorney for starters. We have worked a story out together if he ever chooses to resurface, but, he will need help. I know this is a burden but you may be all he has left."

Wilson chuckled and shook his head. "He'd call me a moron if he knew that I was still worried about him as I'm dying. He doesn't even know I'm making this DVD and I should probably go before he comes back from the store; I sent him out so I can get this made. I'm sorry we never got together in person after you left Princeton-Plainsboro; that we only communicated through phone or email. I'm sorry for not telling you about my diagnosis. You've been a great friend to me Cuddy, and I hope that's how you saw me too." He smiled sadly into the camera. "Good bye, Lisa."

She watched him get off the couch and to the camera to turn it off. She sat there silently. After wiping her tears away, she began to panic thinking about House. She took the DVD out of the player and put it in a safe place and grabbed the letter on the table noting the address Wilson referred to earlier. She grabbed her keys and purse, and called her sister, asking if she can pick Rachel up from school. Then she ran out her door to her car to go find House before it was too late...


	4. Chapter 4

Side note to readers: Hey you guys! I'm now juggling three stories which some of you may be reading all of, so I want you to know that, since I have so many, the updates may be a bit slower coming then normal. I'm going to try and keep them pretty steady but, if some days, one doesn't get updated, please bear with me! Okay, I'm done, now on to chapter 4...

Cuddy stopped her car and parked in front of the apartment building that Wilson lived in with House and her heart pounded harder than it was when she was driving there now that she had arrived. She grabbed the piece of paper with the address and looked at the number, seeing that he should be in 201.

Her hand was shaking when she reached for her key to pull it out of the ignition. She had to shake off her nerves a couple of times, not being able to hold it steady enough to grab the key let alone take it out. She was thinking the whole way over how she would react to seeing him again, and even how he would react. According to Wilson, he thought he had lost her, and probably thought he would never see her again.

She got out of her car after the fourth attempt with her key and shut the door after she stood up. She tried to get an idea of where 201 would be by looking at the number of the apartments that were in the front. She saw 100, and 101 on the top floor and her instincts told her to look at the bottom floor. Some buildings have 100's at the bottom, but, maybe this was reversed, and she saw it was. She saw 200, and walked over to her left to see the number that was being blocked by a tree and saw their apartment.

Now that Cuddy found it and was standing in front of the unit, she started rethinking if she should be the one to be at his rescue. She was planning on taking small steps into getting back into his life and this was a huge leap back in, knowing once it was done she couldn't go back to where she is now. She thought about turning around and telling Foreman like Wilson told her to if she opted to not go herself because of this feeling she had that was now coming over her, but, she also knew House and his history with self destruction and every minute counts. What if by the time she gets Foreman, it's too late, or if within the time it took her to receive that DVD and watch it, it was already too late?

She reminded herself of the empty feeling she felt when she thought he had passed away, and here she was, given another chance to make things right, he was still alive, at least she hoped, she wasn't going to blow it again. She put one foot in front of the other and walked to the door, telling herself she could do it. This was Gregory House, not just another ex of hers like her current hospital knew him as, she was his friend, she slept with him, and even despite everything that happened after the break up and crash, she still loved him. This was not a stranger that she could walk away from without a second thought, this was the man that she spent half her life knowing, and he needed her.

Cuddy reached the door and took one last deep breath and knocked loudly, leaving some time for an answer before knocking again. Her heart started racing when the door didn't open, and she pounded this time. She didn't know how big the apartment was, so she didn't know if he had heard the first time she knocked.

Three separate pounds later, and still no answer, she searched around the door, under the mat, and put her hand up on top of the doorway knowing House sometimes put an extra key there, although obvious, she thought maybe he still did. She felt a cold key-shaped object and never felt so relieved that even though some things about him have changed, as Wilson told her, some things also didn't. She inserted the key into the lock and smiled to see it open.

It was dark everywhere, too dark for anyone to be in here. She was glancing around the living room which she could see all of from the front door and didn't see any sign of life. She closed the door and took one step into the apartment to start searching in different rooms when she nearly fell being tripped by something on the floor. She looked down and saw House laying lifeless in front of her, and panic took over her seeing him lay there feeling the fear of actually losing him for real this time.

"House!" Cuddy rushed to his side, sitting down on the floor and put her fingers on the side of his neck to check his pulse, letting out a long sigh of relief when she found one. She looked down at him as he laid with his left cheek on the floor, facing away from her.

"Cuddy? Is that you?" he asked into the floor which made him sound muffled but still clear enough for her to make out what he said.

"Yeah, House, it's me," she put her right hand on his back and rubbed it to comfort him.

"He's gone, Cuddy, Wilson's gone, he left me all alone," House said. Cuddy looked up to the ceiling trying to stop the tears forming in her eyes from escaping and dropping on him.

"I know, it's going to be alright," she continued to rub his back and she noticed a pill bottle laying on the opposite side of him and reached around his body with her free hand and picked the bottle up to observe it.

"Sleeping pills?" Cuddy looked down at House's face to see if he would move to look at her but he never did. "What are you doing with sleeping pills?"

"I don't want to be awake anymore," House replied still muffled, keeping his eyes closed to stop his own tears that he was sick of shedding. "He comes in my dreams, I see Wilson when I'm sleeping." Cuddy inhaled and held it in, closing her mouth and looking at him sympathetically, moving her right hand from his back to his head and started stroking his hair, still trying to comfort him. He shifted his head to face her, and she lifted her hand when he did, but he kept his face down and wrapped his left arm that was closest to her around her lower back. "I'm sorry, Cuddy, I'm sorry for everything, I don't even know why you're here, but, I can't do this alone, he was all I had left, I can't do this alone."

"You're not doing this alone, I'm here," she said softly, watching the man who had been so guarded, and so tough, in front of her falling apart. "Come on," she slid her left hand underneath him and tried to hoist him up, "let's get you off the floor."

"I'm so tired," he replied, trying to help her, but not succeeding.

"No more sleeping pills, you're going to stay awake, and I will help you through this, you hear me?"

House gave no answer as she managed to get him sitting up and he looked at her for the first time in roughly a year. The left side of his face was red from laying on the floor, and his eyes were red from all the crying she imagined he did since Wilson's passing, and his hair was sticking up in every direction. "I'm so sorry, Cuddy," he repeated when seeing her own pain looking back into his over their friend they were now without.

She sniffed, trying to not break down in front of him, "that's not important right now, okay? We need to get you out of here. Where's your cane?" she asked when looking around the room.

"I don't know, it's here somewhere."

"Well, you're going to have to help me, I'll help you to the couch so I can-"

"No! Not the couch!" Cuddy looked over at it and didn't question why, she imagined he had a good reason, and she wasn't going to drag that out of him and make things worse.

"Okay, not the couch, where's your bedroom? I'll help you get to your bed to sit on, I'll look for your cane, and I'll help pack some things. I'm taking you back to my place-"

"But, you don't want me at your place, you moved to get away from me and-"

"That's all changed, you can't stay here, and right now that seems like the only option."

"We need to make sure that we bring the baseball," House stated, when with both of their struggling, got him into standing position and she wrapped her left arm around his back and held onto his torso with her right palm.

"What baseball? Why a baseball?" she surveyed the room and saw a baseball inside a broken television screen.

"Wilson caught it for me, he told me to think of him every time I use it," House said trying not to break down at the thought of that day again.

"Okay, I'll make sure and bring that baseball with us. Anything else?" House looked all around the room, seeing imprints of Wilson on everything, all were memories that were too painful for him to revisit. "No, just the baseball."

Cuddy struggled to get him into his bedroom but once she did, she went back into the living room to look for his cane. While in the other room, she heard House in the bedroom who had started to cry...


	5. Chapter 5

Once Cuddy grabbed everything from the living room and packed what clothes and stuff from the bathroom she thought House would need, she asked if there was anything else he wanted around the room. He stopped crying for the moment but still in a daze, not really comprehending what was going on around him with her being here after what happened with them, to be at his rescue when needed, he said it was fine, and asked for her to not pack the baseball, that he will hold it. Cuddy walked out first, throwing his suitcase strap over her right shoulder, knowing that he was in no shape to do it himself. He followed close behind her, no longer needing her to help him walk now that she found and gave him his cane.

The ride was quiet, along with their first three hours after they have arrived at Cuddy's place. He looked around to get the feel for the place, and to get to know where everything is, and sat quietly on the couch. Cuddy knew it would be a long time before he gets back to being anything close to himself, but, felt relieved to know that he was now where she could see him, and knew that he is safe. She thought back to when she considered not going in herself, and seeing him in the shape he was in, she was glad she was the one that went to him. She knew Foreman would have tried to do everything he could for him, if he had been the one to get House from the apartment, but, she also knew whatever he would try to do, might not have been enough. Although Foreman cares, the two people that House leaned on the most was herself and Wilson, which is why she reasoned out that Wilson requested she get him. He knew that as well as she did. "House, you want anything to drink?" she called out softly.

"No."

"Here, in case you want it later, and you need to eat," he watched as she placed a bottle of water and a turkey sandwich that she made for him on the coffee table in front of him.

"How is your leg? Are you feeling any pain?"

House looked down at his leg, not having thought about it for days. The last time he remembered it really hurting was when the landlord came to the door. Since then, he was so focused on other pain, emotional pain, that his leg didn't bother him at all. "No, it's fine."

Cuddy knew what he was experiencing with that answer. She saw how bad his limp was when they got out of her car and into her house, but, he didn't realize it. He couldn't care less.

"I have to go get Rachel from my sister's place, are you going to be okay here by yourself?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to be okay with Rachel around?" she asked.

"Of course, I knew she would be here eventually when you brought me here."

"Okay," Cuddy walked away from where she stood to grab her keys, with House thinking about why she asked him that question. She was trying her hardest to make him feel as comfortable as possible.

"Cuddy," he called out when she reached the door and she turned around to see that he wasn't turning around to face her.

"Yeah, House?" she asked.

"Thank you," he told her quietly.

"Of course," she felt tears building up and opened the front door and walked through it, closing it behind her before he saw or noticed. She stood on the porch and wiped her eyes clean and went back to her car to get Rachel.

A little while after, Cuddy came back with Rachel who she told while on their way that House was at their place but before she goes to him, she needs to change her clothes. So when they arrived Rachel ran straight to her room as fast as her legs would take her, to dump off all her school stuff and change. Cuddy followed her, glancing at House who was still on the couch and saw the sandwich was gone along with half the water in the water bottle and felt better that he was eating.

"I want to see House!" Rachel exclaimed, hurrying while changing from her clothes she wore to school into her pajamas. It was getting late, close to her bedtime, and Cuddy didn't want her to lose any sleep for school the next day. Her sister told her she already had dinner, so all she had to do was get her into bed.

"Honey, House isn't himself right now, so if he doesn't seem to be as playful as you remember, you have to be understanding okay? He's sad, and we have to be strong for him."

"I can be strong!" Rachel announced, yanking at her shirt to pull all the way down, running past Cuddy and down the hallway to House who had now gone from sitting to lying on the couch. Rachel's smile went away when she saw House looking straight ahead as if Rachel wasn't there.

"House, why are you sad?" Rachel was hovering over him, studying his sad expression with her head tilted to the left.

"I'm not sad," he answered, but kept looking where he was.

"But you are," she insisted.

"Rachel, honey, come brush your teeth for bed," Cuddy called out from the hallway.

Rachel lingered near House to study him a little bit more, and ran over to where Cuddy stood. "Mommy, why is House sad?"

Cuddy looked over Rachel's head, towards the couch where House lay unresponsive which Rachel wasn't used to seeing so demanded an answer, and Cuddy didn't want her to bother him anymore so she came up with an answer without getting into detail. "He lost a good friend, honey."

"Oh," Rachel looked in House's direction and ran back over to him and poked his right shoulder. "House," she said softly.

"What kid?"

"If you need a new friend, I'll be yours, if it will make you happy again."

House's mouth curved into a half closed mouth smiled and looked over at Rachel who was trying so hard to cheer him up, "thanks kid, now go brush your teeth."

She beamed at him and ran back into the hallway into the bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush that Cuddy took out of the cup on the counter for her and laid next to sink where she could reach it better and she started to brush. When she was done, Cuddy put everything back where it belonged and followed Rachel into her room to tuck her in. "Mommy, is the friend that House is sad about the one who used to come over when House would babysit me?"

Cuddy glanced up at her daughter from pulling her blankets up and around her, who looked like she was very far off from being tired, "he used to bring a friend over?"

"Yeah, I think he worked at the hospital too because when we took House there because his leg hurt real bad, he came in when you went to the bathroom and he was wearing that white coat that I see you wear sometimes. I asked him if House will be okay and he said that I shouldn't worry about him because House had tuners in his leg, and that's what he knows about best, that he will make sure the tuners are all gone before House is allowed to go home."

Cuddy sat down on the side of Rachel's bed smiling at her mispronounced way of saying 'tumors' and stroked the right side of Rachel's hair, who sat up in her bed. "Yeah, that's him, his name is Wilson."

"Mommy, can't you tell Wilson that House has more tuners and that he needs him to look at them? Maybe he will come back, and House won't be sad anymore," she said to Cuddy, sounding hopeful.

Cuddy's smile turned into a frown, "I'm afraid he's too far to be called back like that," Cuddy answered, hoping Rachel won't go any further on the subject tonight.

"Oh," Rachel looked down, "I'm happy House is here, but, I don't like it when he's sad."

"Neither do I, sweety, but give him time. He'll get better, okay?"

She looked back up at her Mom, and Cuddy saw her daughter's eyes glisten with tears starting to form, "okay, Mommy."

Cuddy sighed, and stood up from sitting on Rachel's bed and walked over to the light switch to turn off the light, but swiveled around to look at Rachel one last time before she did and saw her turn to her right, with her eyes closed to go to sleep. Cuddy flicked the switch, and grabbed the doorknob to pull the door closer to her, to close it, but not all the way, leaving it a little open in case Rachel called out to her for anything.

Cuddy tiptoed from the hall over to the kitchen to not disturb House if he was sleeping. She reached for her teapot that still sat on the back right burner from when she used it last and filled it up with water and placed it back down, turning the burner on and waited in front of it for the water to boil so it doesn't whistle for too long before she grabs it. She turned her head to the right to look out her window and thought about the pain that House was going through. She jumped and was pulled out of her thought when she heard a thud hit the floor near the couch. Her first thought was House had quietly done something stupid, in her care that went unnoticed by her, and she swiftly, yet still light-footed not making too much noise ran to the couch and saw that he was still laying down, and from the movement of his stomach was still breathing. She saw his eyes were closed, having fallen asleep and walked around the couch to see what could have fell that made such a noise. His left arm was hanging off the couch and she saw from her new angle, the baseball right underneath. Her heart broke knowing he must have been holding it this whole time.

She sighed while looking up at his face, and took her right hand and stroked his hair, leaning down and kissed his temple. She stood up straight, letting her glance on him linger for a few more seconds, then remembered her water boiling and left the living room and went back into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea...


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning Cuddy got Rachel off to school before House woke up and came back to find that he was in the shower. She didn't know if he had been showering regularly, or doing anything for that matter since Wilson's funeral. By the looks of him when she found him, she would have to guess he wasn't, so she felt a little more at ease that he seemed to be possibly be taking a step forward back into everyday life. Luckily, she pointed out the drawer in her dresser that she used to put his stuff in after she unpacked for him so he knew where to get what he needed when he got out, otherwise, she questioned if he would have even bothered with taking a shower or not.

He stepped out of the bathroom ten minutes later and Cuddy heard his footsteps, one sounding heavier than the other, with the sound of his cane stomping the ground right before each pattern set, getting closer to where she was in the kitchen, as she was getting ready to make some coffee. "I thought you'd be going to work today," he stated when he saw her, trying to make normal conversation. Another good sign, she noted to herself that he was making the effort, despite the deep tone he was using that wasn't his normal pitch.

"I took a few days off," she opened her cupboard and reached for another mug and looked at him, seeing his hair not brushed and so wet it was dripping onto the shoulders of his t-shirt. "Do you want some coffee? I'm getting ready to make some."

"Sure, thanks," he took a seat at the table she had in the kitchen and watched her pull the mug down and opened the coffee maker's lid to pour the coffee grounds in. Cuddy felt House looking at her, still waiting for an answer for why she wasn't at work. She didn't want him to know how she fell apart when she thought he had died, or that she was going to therapy to try and get over what he had done. It felt all too soon for those revelations; if she were to even reveal them at all.

"It hasn't been that busy there lately. So, I was told to go home, and they will call me when I'm needed." She turned on her heel after hitting the start button on the coffee maker, and took a seat in the chair that sat across from the one he took.

"You're okay with that arrangement? From what I remember, we couldn't get you out of Princeton-Plainsboro. You were afraid if you left, something would go wrong the minute you stepped out those doors," he looked down and away from her, "the only time you seemed to walk out without a second thought was when-" he drifted off, not finishing that sentence, but he didn't have to. She knew which time he was referring to.

She inhaled deeply a couple minutes later, when the coffeemaker beeped alerting them it was ready, that broke the silence they fell into. She poured it and gave it to him as he liked it and set it down in front of him which took his focus off the floor and onto the mug. "Thanks," he took the handle and brought it up to his lips and took a sip.

She poured herself a cup and sat back into her chair and took a sip of hers as well. "I have to go to the store to get some things. I'm assuming you'd rather stay here," he nodded in agreement, "we still have some breakfast stuff if you get hungry, which, you should eat something. Is there anything you want me to get you when I'm there?"

"You don't have to go out of your way to-"

"House," she set her mug down and reached across the table to take his left hand in her right. "Let me be here for you, please. This can't be easy. Rachel and I will help see you through this, no matter how long it takes," she paused, watching as he silently looked at her hand on his. "Okay?"

He looked up at her, his eyes meeting hers, which were turning glossy, "okay," he answered meekly.

Cuddy got up after they both finished their cups of coffee without any further words exchanged between the two. She remembered what House favored to eat, and although he didn't tell her what he wanted, she had a pretty good idea of what to get. She put her mug in the sink, leaving his with him in case he wanted more, and reminded him to eat something for breakfast. She left him alone to go to the grocery store that she said was down the street, so she shouldn't be gone for too long.

He sat in his chair after she left thinking things over for a couple minutes and felt his stomach growling angrily at him for food. He stood up and searched the kitchen to decide on what to make himself. He chose to go simple and poured himself a bowl of Cherrios and made himself a piece of toast and sat back down at the table to eat.

He sighed after getting up and grabbed his cereal bowl with the mug sitting inside of it when he was done, to allow him to hold them in one hand to have his cane in the other, and set them in the sink and left the kitchen and went into the living room.

House went near the television to see what DVDs she had and lifted his left hand to brush it over the DVDs as he read each title scowling that most were all kids stuff. He looked down at a blank one that was separate from the others. He picked it up and looked thoughtful at the television that he hadn't even turned on yet and jabbed his chin with the corner of the cover wondering if he should see what it was. He was interested enough to play it, so he opened the cover, popped in the disc and took the remote with him over to the couch, turning on all that he needed and hit play.

He furrowed his brow, and raised his right one when he saw a couch and a living room that he recognized as the one he shared with Wilson, and then Wilson appeared. "Hi Cuddy," House couldn't believe what he was seeing. He saw Wilson continue talking, but nothing was registering. His eyes started tearing up and he started to wonder when she got this. From the looks of Wilson, it was fairly recent. When did he make this? When and how did this get to her? And why didn't she tell him she had it? All these different questions came into his head, but he pushed them aside. Here was his friend talking, and although addressing Cuddy, House wanted to hear what he had to say. So he sat straight on the couch, wiped his eyes with his right palm and continued to watch as Wilson spoke into the camera...


	7. Chapter 7

Cuddy got back twenty minutes later and before checking to see where House was, she went straight to the kitchen to put away all the cold things she bought. When she closed the refrigerator, she heard the television was on, and the familiar voice coming through it. "Goodbye, Lisa." Cuddy closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, holding it for a second before exhaling. She opened her eyes back up and took a step towards the living room, further away from the kitchen when she heard the voice again, "Hi, Cuddy." Her heart sunk. House was watching it over again, and that made her wonder how many times he had already seen it before she came home.

"House," she said so softly, it came out more as a whisper. She walked over and around the couch and saw his cheeks were blotchy and red and in some angles, she saw streaks where tears were. But now, he sat there almost as if he were mesmerized by the television. "House," she said again, taking a seat next to him, keeping her eyes on him.

"When did you get this?" he asked, still watching his friend. Cuddy didn't answer him. She sat there and watched as he watched Wilson. "When did you get this, Cuddy?" he repeated, his voice sounding more strained than the first time.

"Yesterday," she answered softly.

"So he was the reason you came to the apartment? If he hadn't-"

Cuddy took his right hand in both of hers, a tear escaping her left eye. "House, I thought-"

"I was dead. I know," he turned away from the screen for the first time to look at her, "I saw you at the funeral."

Cuddy's heart started to race, thinking back on that day. He saw her break down and lose it. She was embarrassed that most of her old co-workers at Princeton-Plainsboro saw, and it took nearly an hour of reassurance from Cameron telling her it was okay, they all understood with the history they had, to convince her she had nothing to be embarrassed about. But, now knowing he saw too, she let go of his hand in shock. He looked down at it when he felt the weight of her hands leave. "I didn't see you...how, where were you?"

"I couldn't be seen, so I hid. I was a few yards down, behind a flower stand." She thought about the surroundings she saw, and her eyes widened when she remembers seeing it.

"House, I-"

"Don't worry about it." He looked back at the television screen at Wilson who was still talking but, he heard it five times already, practically knowing it by heart. He found something comforting in having it play over and over. It felt like Wilson was closer to them than he actually was. "When did you start going to therapy?" House asked, having hit play again to start the DVD over.

Cuddy closed her eyes and sighed, knowing he heard Wilson mention it. "Ever since I moved."

"He never told me. I thought he told me everything," House said more to himself then her.

"That's only because he thought that I should be the one to tell you. He wanted to," she reached out and put her hand on his shoulder, "he wanted to tell you that things may not be over between the two of us. That I was trying to reach the point of possibly being friends with you again because you were such a big part of my life before that," she paused and watched as he sat there without a response while continuing to watch. "That wasn't Wilson's fault." She let her hand drop from his shoulder.

"Okay."

She was surprised he didn't press on any further on the subject, that he just grew quiet again and watched. It was like he was trying to absorb every second of Wilson he could. She started wondering if this was a good or bad thing for him. There was evidence all over his face that he had been crying before she came home, but he wasn't anymore. He seemed to be calm, and was enjoying it, so she left it at that. She wasn't going to take the one thing away that was making him communicative. Then she started wondering something that she couldn't help but ask.

"Are you mad I didn't tell you about the DVD?" she questioned after she looked away from him and back onto the screen to see Wilson.

"I was at first, but, I understand why you didn't tell me," he sighed deeply, "I should have taken more from the apartment." He regretted taking one thing after all the times they shared with each other in that place. Although Wilson was slowly getting worse and worse during the duration they were there, there were also some good days.

"I thought you might feel that way, stay here," Cuddy told House. She lightly patted his right knee, knowing he has barely been taking anything for his leg, and even though he may not be thinking about it too much now, he will be in great pain later, and headed towards her bedroom.

He heard her opening drawers and shifting around in there, and heard the sound of her footsteps coming back to him and in one hand held a frame that he recognized, and in the other she held one he didn't. Cuddy handed the one he recognized to him, and placed the other face down on the opposite side of herself and sat back down next to him.

He smiled at the picture that House took by extending his arm out of the two of them when they got the apartment. It was before Wilson got too weak to barely stand up on his own, so his face still looked as it always had. Wilson held his copy of the key in his right hand and brought it close to his face so it got in the picture as House did the same with his right, using his left to hold the camera. Cuddy watched House take his right hand and traced his pointer finger along Wilson's face, not realizing the DVD had ended because he had another piece of Wilson to focus on. "When did you get this?"

"When I was in the living room getting your cane and baseball. I know you said that's all you wanted, but, I knew you were saying it out of pain. I walked passed the desk and saw that picture of the two of you on it and I grabbed it. You both look so happy, I had a feeling you might want it someday. I was going to hang onto it until you were ready, but, since you found the DVD and you seem to-"

"It's easier for me to handle now that I'm not in the apartment anymore. Over there everything.. even the floor I was lying on reminded me of him because when he got to the point of not being able to walk without help, he would fall down on it. Once I was away from it, and I slept," he sighed, "I hope I'll be better off now." He traced Wilson's face again. "Thank you for this, Cuddy," he said softly. He looked up from the picture and over to the one that was still face down. "What is that?"

Cuddy looked down at it and picked it up, leaving it face down while she told him about it with a smile. "This one was taken by Rachel on my phone," she looked up and saw the look on his face told her he was interested in hearing the story, "you know how she used to come into the hospital and play with my phone all the time?" he nodded and she went on. "Well, one day, she was sitting at the lobby desk, in one of the chairs there and she told me later when I confronted her about taking my phone again, that I will be proud of her this time because she took a picture that she was convinced I would like." Cuddy looked down at the picture and started turning it around, with House still looking at her. "She was right. I had it printed out, I liked it so much." She handed House the picture and saw it was the back of him and Wilson. He was on the right and Wilson was on the left, and they had all their stuff, along with Wilson without his white coat, so they must have been leaving for the day. Rachel captured their side views, and they were looking at each other, both with smiles on their faces.

Cuddy reached for House's right arm that was closest to her and squeezed it, leaning her head closer to look at the picture without asking him to turn it. "You made him happy, House."

"I was a crappy friend. He asked me to tell him I loved him, and I said no. He wanted to know he wasn't in it alone, and I couldn't even say the one thing he asked me to. I wanted him to fight and not give up, so I refused to say anything that sounded like a good bye to him or me. When he died, I thought back to that request. I finally said it then, but, I don't think he heard me. He was too busy trying to tell me I'll be okay." He glanced away from the picture over to Cuddy who also looked up, and her eyes started to get misty, "can you believe he wasted his last words on me? The last thing Wilson ever said was 'House, I promise, you'll be fine, I love you,'" a tear fell from Cuddy's right eye. "That's when I replied back, I said I loved him too, but, he was gone already. He stopped breathing, although his eyes were still looking at me like he was," he sighed and looked back down at Rachel's picture and felt Cuddy's hold on his arm get tighter.

"He knew. He knew you loved him, House. Listen to what he said in the DVD. How you did whatever he asked you to do for him. Did you not see how happy he looked when he said that? You have always been the one that said actions mean more than words. He may not have heard you say it, but, you showed him, House." He didn't answer, but she hoped that she got through to him. That he won't torture himself about Wilson not hearing the words back from him. "Have you...considered resurfacing as yourself? Maybe go back into medicine?"

"I can't...I can't go back to Princeton-Plainsboro, and be where Wilson used to be everyday," he answered looking at her again.

"No, I wouldn't expect you too. At least not now, not so soon. But, I have a hospital," she said with a small smile.

He smiled back at her at the extent she was trying to help, and knowing he had Wilson to thank for all of it. He was meddling into their relationship one last time; and who could say no to him when he was dying of cancer? "Maybe," he looked back down and at the picture of the himself and Wilson walking out of Princeton-Plainsboro, having put the one that was taken at the apartment on the coffee table in front of them, with Cuddy looking down at it also with a smile...


	8. Chapter 8

House and Cuddy sat on the couch together for hours, sharing their favorite memories about Wilson. There were times she saw him tear up, but, he showed no signs of wanting to stop so she kept going. They took a break from sitting in the living room, the television was now off, and they had both pictures standing up by their stands in the back of the frames on the coffee table. They both found comfort in having Wilson out to be looked at.

They went to the kitchen, when they both got hungry and Cuddy started pulling things out for herself to make and he watched as she pulled out a jar of peanut butter from the paper bag that was still sitting on the table from when she got in. He stood up from same seat he sat in earlier and took it from her, "I got it," he said, not wanting her to do everything for him. She turned and let him take care of himself when she put together a little salad in a bowl and some yogurt for herself.

They sat and ate quietly, both thinking back to all the memories they just shared with each other of their beloved friend, when the sun falling on the frame of the picture Rachel took grabbed House's attention. "Hey Cuddy?"

"Yes, House?" she asked eagerly. She was feeling more and more pleased with how much House has talked today. Despite the tears he shed, which were still expected for a while, she was glad he wasn't just staring at the blank space around him like when she got him.

"Where did you get that frame that the picture of Wilson and I are in?"

She shifted around to look at it, not having remembered what it was in, and she smiled when she remembered. "That actually came from Wilson," she answered, pointing at it with her fork she had in her hand and turned back to face House who was looking at her, waiting to hear more. "He gave that to me years ago. Back when I first got Rachel, and I was having a tough time with it all. You told me I should give her back," House looked down, disappointed in himself for telling her all those things back then. If he had known Rachel would turn out the way she did, he never would have said those things. But back then, she was just this small, crying, eating, popping machine that got in the way of demanding what he wanted from Cuddy. "Anyway, he came over almost everyday back then," he looked back up not knowing Wilson came by that often. He knew he went to visit, but not everyday. Cuddy smiled with the memory. "He came by with this picture; everyday it was some new gift. But, this one was a picture of this woman who he said was Rachel in...I forgot, eighteen years or something. He said he had it done at some store, I don't know which one. But it was to show me that, even though she was just this, nonverbal, little baby now, she will someday turn into her. He painted this whole picture, saying I'll be giving her advice, and some she'll actually listen to," Cuddy smile widened at that while House stayed the way he was, listening intently. "He was trying to show me everything I'd be missing out on if I gave her back right then."

"Do you still have the picture?"

Cuddy laughed, "no. I told him I'd pay him back for it and he said it was just the picture that came with the frame." They both smiled, Cuddy remembering how he told her and House imagining the way he would say it. "I'm glad he did that, because it helped. He's one of the main reasons why I still have Rachel," she turned back away to look into the living room, "and plus, it is a really nice frame."

"I'm sorry I was an ass back then when it came to Rachel. I just-"

"You were being you. As awful as those things were to say, and hurtful to me in that moment, you were honest, and, right. It would have been horrible of me to keep her without feeling that bond. Luckily, I waited, after Wilson did what he did with the frame and we did bond. So, you have nothing to be sorry for."

He nodded and took a bite out of his sandwich not knowing if she was just saying that to make him feel better about feeling guilty or if she truly meant it. But, he didn't press any further. The last thing he wanted to do was start an argument with the one person who was helping him, and who understood his loss.

They didn't talk much after they ate. House was in his own mind, and Cuddy knew it. She had seen the way he looked when he would tune things out around him a million times and fall into his own thoughts, so she went into her room to grab a book to read and brought it back into the living room and sat in the chair next to the couch and made herself comfortable to let House do his own thing until it was time to get Rachel from school. Every time she turned the page she would glance up at him to make sure he was alright, and in case he wanted to talk again, but, he stayed quiet so she continued onto the next couple of pages.

She glanced up at the time on the clock in the living room and saw it was time to go pick Rachel up. "House, I'll be back in a little while okay? It's time to get Rachel." She set her book down and walked over to the counter to get to her keys and looked at him when she didn't hear an answer back. "House, are you okay?" her tone raised to slight panic.

"Yeah, fine. Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About?" she threw her purse strap over her right shoulder.

"It's nothing. I'm fine, go get Rachel, she shouldn't be waiting."

Cuddy didn't move from where she stood, now afraid for him because of the way he was behaving all of a sudden. She watching him rub his leg, not even sure if he was aware he was doing it, until he leaned forward to pop two pills.

"Ibuprofen?"

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, "yeah."

She watched him put the bottle down and saw that it was a lie. He took some Vicodin.

"House can you-"

"I know what you're going to say. That I shouldn't be taking them because-"

"No," she said, "I was going to ask if you can not have it out when Rachel is here. She still thinks it's candy."

He scooped it off the coffee table and put it in his pocket, "sure."

She cautiously walked out of the house. Something about the way he was just acting set off a spark in her. He almost sounded defensive about the pills. She wanted to ask if what he was thinking about was possibly getting back out into the world, but she knew that would lead into an actual conversation and nothing that just consisted of "yes" or "no" as answers, and there was Rachel to think of, so she left to get her.

Twenty-five minutes later Cuddy came home with Rachel who ran right over to House. "House! Are you happy now?" Rachel questioned him eagerly, taking a seat so close next to him her right leg was touching his left and looked up at his face for an answer but saw he wasn't smiling. "You're not yet, are you?" her tone dropped and House noticed.

"It will take some time, kid," he answered as normal as he could for her benefit while looking at her.

"Okay, I can wait," she smiled at him and kicked her feet in the air.

Cuddy walked through the front door having to grab Rachel's backpack out of her car that Rachel left behind because she wanted to get to House. "Rachel, honey, go change your clothes."

"Okay," she slid off the couch, grabbing onto House's leg for support and ran into her room, taking her backpack from Cuddy who held it out to her on her way down the hall.

"Do you want to talk about what you were thinking earlier?" Cuddy asked House, taking a seat in the same spot that Rachel took.

House was looking down at the coffee table, "I was thinking more about my future and what I want to do with it. What I think Wilson might want me to do with it."

"And what's that?"

He turned his head to look at her, "I think he would want me to get back into medicine. He would tell me that I need something else to focus on because there's nothing I can do about him. That I need something to put all my energy into. He wouldn't want me to torture myself like this."

Cuddy reached for his hand, a habit she found herself doing since he got here. "That sounds like Wilson, and I think it's a good start."

"Yeah," he lowered his head, looking into his lap and squeezed her hand that grabbed his. "I just feel guilty if I do. That if I do get back into it, then, that would be like me telling everyone I don't care about Wilson."

"No," Cuddy shook her head even though he wasn't looking. "That's not true, House. You think the only way you can care and miss someone is to be miserable everyday for the rest of your life? Don't do this. Listen to what you just said of what you think he would want you to do. He knows you miss him."

House let out a laugh, "that's what's fucked up most about this. I would normally tell you he doesn't know anything. He's down in the ground rotting and that's that. Wilson is gone. But, I don't want to think that way anymore. It hurts too much that he is nothing. I'd like to believe that he's out floating around somewhere. That for all we know he could be right here, giving me that disappointed look of his that I can't see," he looked back up at Cuddy. "I don't know what I believe anymore."

Cuddy pressed her lips together tightly, "it's okay to think that. If that's what makes you feel better, than do it. You can believe he is with you."

Rachel came storming into the living room and looked upset at Cuddy, "Mommy, you took my spot next to House!" she cried out.

Cuddy gave her daughter a small smile, and let go of House's hand and let her claim her spot back by standing up. She knew with Rachel in the room, they couldn't continue the conversation they were having anyway. She walked towards the kitchen and felt House's eyes on her while Rachel pounced back into her spot. "I'm going to make myself some tea," she told him and he nodded and looked at Rachel who laid her head onto House's upper arm while grabbing the remote and put on the television.

For the next couple of hours, the three of them stayed pretty quiet. Rachel was in a trance in front of the television, but, still stayed near House, occasionally leaning on him from time to time. They took a break for dinner, and Rachel took that opportunity to tell them both about her day at school.

It reached Rachel's bedtime, so Cuddy went to tuck her in while House grabbed all the blankets and the pillow that Cuddy had set aside for him to use and spread them out on the couch. It was a long day for both of them, and when she came back from tucking Rachel in she felt relieved that House was tired too because she felt exhausted.

"Do you have everything you need, House?" she asked from the hallway.

"Yeah, thanks," he answered, still getting the couch to his liking.

"Okay, I'll be in my bedroom in case you need anything," she turned on her heel and he smiled to himself that he heard her say the same thing to Rachel a minute ago, and laid down.

Rachel was stirring in her bed when she heard noise coming from the living room a half hour after she had fallen asleep. She sat up to listen, and threw her blankets off of herself when she couldn't make out what House was saying. She tiptoed out of her room, looking in the direction of Cuddy's room and saw the lights were off in there and continued to go to see if House was alright. She walked around the couch quietly and saw his eyes were closed but, was mumbling in his sleep, sounding like he was in pain. That he was hurting.

Rachel ran away from him over to Cuddy's room and shook her awake. "Mommy! Mommy wake up!" she said in a frantic whisper. Cuddy asked her what was wrong with her eyes still closed, trying to stay asleep if all possible. "It's House, Mommy. I think he's having a bad dream." Cuddy opened her eyes and saw the fear in her daughters eyes and she got out of bed and followed her into the living room. "I can't make out what he's saying but-"

Cuddy knew exactly what he was saying. It was hard to make out, but she heard him crying out Wilson's name, which from the way he said it, told her it wasn't a good Wilson dream. "We need to wake him up," Cuddy told her, and they both started shaking his shoulder. "House, House can you hear me?" Cuddy asked him, leaning in close to him. It took a couple more shakes and a couple more times of calling his name but House woke up, looking disoriented and sweaty.

"You woke me up?" he asked looking at Cuddy catching his breath.

"Rachel heard you mumbling in your sleep, she got scared. You were calling out Wilson's name."

He nodded, "I was reliving it. He was," he looked at Rachel who was listening intently to everything that was said, "leaving, all over again."

"You scared me House!" Rachel wailed.

"I'm sorry," he told her, his eyes were sad, not wanting to put Rachel through any of this and became mad at himself for coming here in the first place.

She shuffled past Cuddy and got on the couch and rolled herself into a ball next to him, both of them watching as she did that. "You need more help then I can give you, House," she told him, getting his attention back and away from Rachel who stayed where she was. "You need to get back out there. It's not healthy for you to put yourself through this everyday. We need to do something. I'm going to call Foreman in the morning. He may know a good attorney, like Wilson said you will need. We have to take the next step," she told him this with plead in her voice and face, and he nodded, agreeing with her. Silently thinking Foreman was the good choice because he tried to leave a clue behind for him to let him know he was still alive and hoped, if he was as smart as House considered him, he figured it out when he found it. "Okay," he told her.

"Come on, honey, let's let House get back to sleep," Cuddy reached her hand out to grab Rachel's which she reluctantly took. She led her back into her bedroom, and House laid back down, seeing Cuddy come back into the living room with a pillow, blanket, and a clock that House recognized as her alarm clock and watched her push the coffee table further away after setting her clock there.

"What are you doing?" House asked.

"You still have to sleep, don't you? This way, I'll be here closer to you to hear if you need me," she smiled at him as she yanked at a lever he never saw on the chair that turned it into a recliner. That would be something he would have noticed before, and stared blankly, knowing he was far gone from himself because of the fact that he didn't.

Cuddy laid down, making herself comfortable, with House doing the same. The second she closed her eyes she heard tiny footsteps coming from the hallway. "Mommy," Rachel whispered, poking at her right shoulder. "Can I sleep out here too?" Cuddy opened her eyes and saw the hopeful expression on her face.

"Okay," Cuddy whispered back. "Go get your pillow, we'll share this blanket." Cuddy kept her eyes open, waiting for Rachel to come back. A couple seconds later she did, and dropped the pillow next to Cuddy's and went over to the couch. She watched as Rachel went over to House who had his eyes closed, and bent down to kiss him on his cheek. She wrinkled her nose, his beard having tickled her and whispered, "sweet dreams, House."

They both saw a small smile form on his face, keeping his eyes how they were, "thanks, kid," he replied. Rachel turned with a smile and climbed up next to Cuddy and slid under the blanket that they shared. They all went to sleep, neither of them waking up again until the morning...


	9. Chapter 9

House woke up the next morning to see the house was empty. He figured that Cuddy was taking Rachel to school and that she let him sleep as long as he wanted. He grabbed his cane that was lying on the floor next to the couch, brushed his left hand threw his hair to fix it, but only made it stick out in different directions, limped over to the kitchen and started looking around for some coffee to make.

He found the container he was looking for in the second cupboard he opened and heard the front door with the sounds of Cuddy walking into the kitchen to follow. "You're up," she said, as he heard her heels on the floor get closer to him. She reached around him for a mug in the cupboard next to where the coffee was and he hit start after putting everything he needed inside the coffeemaker. "Yeah, just did," he answered and limped over to the seat he had claimed as his when he was in the kitchen.

"You seemed to sleep through the rest of the night okay," she told him, trying to make conversation after she sat down and waited with him for the coffee.

He looked down embarrassed without saying a word. He hated that he turned into this mopy guy who couldn't stop grieving over his friend. He hated that Wilson was so good to him, that he put up with all his crap, enabled his every move, because now that he is gone, House found it a thousand times harder to move forward. This would be the kind of thing he would go to Wilson for advice on how to fix himself from, how to move on. He would scream and shout at him, to try and knock some reason into him, which, always tended to work. House twisted his mouth, he wished Wilson was an ass. Maybe this wouldn't be so difficult if he were.

"I'm still planning on calling Foreman, you're still okay with that aren't you? He might know of a good attorney you can use if you want to resurface," she said cautiously.

"Yeah, that's fine." He didn't know why, but knowing that Foreman will be contacted made him feel better. He was unsure if it was because Foreman was the first who started working with him out of his old team, or if because he tried to reach out to House when he knew he would need a friend, or if it was because he had respect for the guy, as long as he wasn't telling House what to do which got harder since he was his boss toward the end of his career at Princeton. Either way, he felt better.

"I'll call him now," she announced. House felt relieved that she somehow managed to read his thoughts; or maybe, just his expression. He knew Cuddy was doing all she could to make him feel comfortable, but, he couldn't ignore the fact that maybe she was trying to make him too comfortable.

"Foreman, hi, it's Cuddy" House watched her as she spoke into the phone. "Yeah, I'm doing alright, how are you holding up?" another pause, leaving House imagining what was being said on the other end. "God, I can't imagine what that must be like," House watched as Cuddy's expression looked sad and knew Foreman must have been expressing how hard it is to be there after what happened. "Listen, I have a favor to ask of you. How busy is it over there right now? Is there anyone who can sit in for you if you were to leave for a little while?" She smiled and nodded, "great, can you come by my place? I know it's a long drive and I wouldn't ask you to make it if it weren't important. But, I have someone here who you should see, and who you might be able to help." Another pause, "okay, I'll see you in a little while. Thank you, Foreman." Cuddy hung up and smiled at House, "he'll be here as soon as he can. He's leaving the hospital in a few minutes."

House nodded his head and looked in the direction of the coffeemaker when it started to beep, alerting them it was done. He grabbed his cane that was leaning against the table and poured some into the mug he had out and sat back down, freeing some space for Cuddy to get herself some.

Foreman sat back in his desk chair after he hung up the phone thinking about the conversation he just had with his former bosses boss. She had someone there for him to see. His eyes wandering over to the wobbly table he once complained about and half smiled at it, knowing by the tone she spoke to him in, it had to be House. There was something he learned about Cuddy within the time he worked at Princeton, which didn't take that long to pick up on. She had two different ways of speaking while in the hospital. One could be categorized as 'patient and colleague tone,' but there was that other one; the one that he heard the most when he first started, which was 'the House tone.'

Now having an idea of what he was about to face, he grabbed the desk phone back off of its receiver and called House's old office which now belonged to Chase.

"Yeah, what is it?" Chase asked into the phone when he answered it on the second ring.

"Hey, I'm going to be gone for a little while, maybe for the rest of the day. So, if you need anything call my cell, I'll have it with me, and can you spread the word to everyone else? I need to get going."

"Yeah, sure, is everything alright?"

"Fine, I think. I'll talk to you later." Foreman hung up the phone feeling bad for leaving Chase in the dark like that since he was the one who spotted House at Wilson's funeral, but, he wasn't one-hundred percent sure yet if that's who he will be seeing once at Cuddy's or, if they want anyone else to know. So, until he had more answers, he'd keep his mouth shut.

He grabbed his jacket and walked out of the hospital and drove his car in the direction of Cuddy's place.

A couple hours later House heard a knock at the front door from the kitchen. After he drank his cup of coffee and had his breakfast he felt anxious about Foreman coming over. He went through all of Cuddy's books to try and get his mind off of it and settled for her copy of Gray's Anatomy that he found in the middle of a stack of fiction books she had been reading, and took it back to the kitchen to go through with another cup of coffee next to him.

He saw Cuddy walking to the door to open it and heard Foreman's voice greet her with a hello that sounded muffled, which House assumed was because they had hugged the instant they saw one another. "So, what's the big favor? Who am I here to see?" House closed the book and shoved it to his left, ashamed that Foreman hadn't figured it out. Unless, he was asking to see if he was right. House decided to think that's what was behind the question and leaned back in his chair, waiting for Foreman to come to him instead of the opposite.

"Well, it's.." House could tell by the way Cuddy sounded she wasn't sure how to announce it was him. "It's House." House leaned closer, wishing he could see Foreman's face. "You don't look surprised," Cuddy stated. House smiled at this, Foreman had figured it out.

"I kind of thought he might have still been alive," he said tentatively. "But, I wasn't completely sure until Wilson's funeral. Chase and I, actually Chase had spotted him walking away and pointed him out to me." House stopped himself from banging his first on the table, upset with himself for doing that and continued to listen.

"You saw him there?" Cuddy asked stunned.

"Yeah, after you and Cameron had walked away. That's when he left, or, looked like he was leaving. So, where is he?"

"He's in the kitchen, down here," Cuddy responded.

House heard two sets of footsteps that walked the small stretch of hallway Cuddy had in between the front door and the wall of her kitchen and House saw Foreman enter first, in a suit, straight from the hospital.

Foreman stood up straight, and looked him up and down, taking him all in before speaking, silently telling himself this was actually him, and House stared back. "House," Foreman said with a nod.

"Foreman."...


	10. Chapter 10

"How are you doing?" Foreman asked House who held his stare.

"Fine," he lied.

"No, you're not. If you were fine then I wouldn't have gotten a phone call from Cuddy." Foreman turned expecting to see her behind him but saw that she was in the living room instead, deciding to give them their privacy as they spoke to one another. He turned back around and saw House still sitting there staring blankly. Foreman walked out of the doorway of the kitchen and over to the chair opposite of House and pulled it out to sit down. He noticed the copy of Gray's Anatomy next to him. "You're reading medical books, that's good."

"If you say so."

Foreman leaned back in his chair and studied House's neutral expression. "So, I went out with Taub and Chase the other night, they set me up with a woman who turned out to be a transvestite and I didn't realize it until we started making out."

"Sometimes it's hard to tell," House responded.

Foreman went on, "I almost got caught stealing again, could have ruined my whole career."

"Good thing it was almost."

Foreman let out a sigh and sat up straight in his seat. "You need help, House. I just gave you two things that you could have been an ass about but instead you did nothing."

"You've always been the one that has told me what an ass I am, and you were always annoyed, telling me I should stop, and now you want me to be an ass when I'm not?"

"I want you to be an ass so I know you are still in there somewhere!" Foreman was frustrated and didn't care how it showed.

"You see me don't you? I'm here."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it!" Foreman glared at House who would normally fight back, who would challenge him, give him the same glare back, but he did none of those. He sat back and watched as Foreman continued to get all worked up over the shape that House was in.

Foreman knew what he had to tell him to try and get through to him but he had tried to avoid it. He knew Wilson dying was the elephant in the room but he was still morning Wilson's death in his own way and couldn't imagine the kind of pain that House was going through. But, it seemed to him like the only thing that might get through to House, but pointing it out in a different way. The way he imagined House himself would do to someone else. The thought of House slipping away, letting each day go by wasted, was enough to convince Foreman to do it. He took one deep breath and let go.

"House," Foreman dragged the chair over in front of the one House was sitting in to be face to face with him. House looked at him and saw the anger and frustration in his eyes. "I know you're hurting, I know you thought Wilson was all you had, and I'm sorry for that, I'm sorry you're hurting, but dammit, House! You think he'd want you to be like this? To mope around everyday feeling sorry for yourself because you lost a friend? Look, I'm not saying you shouldn't miss him, we all miss him! I know you're having a hard time with this but, you're still alive!" Foreman, took a deep breath to calm himself. "This guy, this guy I'm sitting in front of, is not you. You are not the House that was my boss. As much as I thought you were a miserable bastard, I'd," he stopped and let out a laugh, "I'd give anything to have that guy back again. House, Wilson wanted to live, he was angry he was dying. Do you really think he would be happy if he found out you weren't doing anything with yourself because he was gone? I know you knew him better than anyone, but, I think he would want you to go on and do what you do best. You need to get back out there. He would tell you to get your life back. What you did to yourself for him, to spend those last months of his life with him was a great thing, House. You made him happy. But now, it's time to try and make you happy," Foreman paused, "or, at least get you back to what you were," he smirked at his old boss who was staring back at him, listening intently to every word he was saying. It made Foreman feel like he was a member of his team again and he was telling House a theory he had for their patient. "You are Gregory House, an insane genius, who breaks the rules if he doesn't like them, who does radical procedures if he thinks it will cure someone, who doesn't give a shit what people think of him...you need to pull yourself out of this, you need to come back into the world as Dr. House, you have both me and Cuddy to help you do that. If not for yourself, then do this for Wilson, because you can't tell me I'm wrong about him not wanting you to! So get off your ass and get moving!"

Foreman watched as House's expression stayed neutral. He started questioning whether anything he just told him got through at all. He could have sworn it was by the stare he was getting back from him, but now, Foreman had doubts. Maybe this screwed him up beyond repair. The one thing that destroyed who House was; his kryptonite, was losing Wilson. These thoughts were swarming through Foreman's head when he saw that House gave him a small smirk. "Foreman, you love me don't you?"

Foreman let out a laugh, "that's all it took? Just like that?"

"No, but, you're right, he would want me to do all those things you just-" Foreman's phone started ringing and he stopped to let him answer it, with Foreman throwing an apologetic look at House.

"What's going on?" Foreman asked into the phone when he saw the number was Chase's cell.

"I need your permission to let my patient have brain surgery, he has a tumor," Chase announced.

"Brain surgery?" Foreman asked into the phone, seeing House look up at him showing interest in what was going on. "Is that the same patient that came in earlier because of a severe stomach ache? How did you get a brain tumor from that?"

"We didn't get it from that. It was what happened after. We were about to send the guy home when he started seizing and had a headache, motor loss-"

"Is that Chase?" House asked.

"-and, wait, was that House?" Chase asked when he heard his voice through the phone.

Foreman hesitated, "yeah, it's House," he answered awkwardly.

"Is that who you had to go see? Why didn't you tell me it was House? I knew it was him the other day, the bastard-"

"Do what you have to do. If you think its a tumor, confirm it, and if you can operate, do it," Foreman hung up before Chase could say another word.

"What are the guys symptoms?" House asked with full interest.

"Does it matter?"

"It should matter to you shouldn't it?" House raised his voice and Foreman studied his body language and his sudden change in demeanor once there was a patient involved. He needed this, he needed to focus on a patient to forget about what was going on in his life, so was latching onto one of his old teams. Foreman looked down, with a sad expression on his face with a new thought in his mind.

"What? What is it Foreman?" his tone dropped but leaned forward.

"Are you sure you want to do this? To come back as yourself?"

"Yes, we just went through this, why are you asking me after you convinced me it would be a good idea?"

"If you do, there is a chance that you will have to serve your six months," Foreman said carefully, making sure what he was telling him was getting through.

House slumped down in his seat, and after a moment of silence, his eyes met Foreman's again. "I'm okay with that. I did all this to spend Wilson's last months with him, he's gone. So, I have nothing to lose."

Foreman sighed, he had House all wrong all these years. He always saw him as a heartless bastard who didn't care about anyone, but it seemed far from the truth. House can care about specific people, and when he does, he will do anything for them, even if it screws his own life up; literally. "Okay, then I'll start calling the attorneys I know, see which one can take on your case, maybe we can get you out of serving."

House nodded his head, "good."...


	11. Chapter 11

Foreman left Cuddy's house to go back to the hospital when his cell phone kept ringing, interrupting his conversation with House and told him they will discuss what needs to be discussed when he has more time. After he said good bye to him and Cuddy, he let himself out and House left the kitchen and limped over to the couch in the living room. Cuddy closed the book she was reading while curled up on the chair and set it down.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm getting so sick of that question," House said, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry," Cuddy said sympathetically.

House looked up from his lap over at Cuddy whose expression matched her tone. "It's not your fault," he told her, feeling guilty for answering her that way. "I could be better."

Cuddy straightened her legs and pushed herself out of the chair and sat at House's right on the couch. She laid her left hand on his thigh, "are you really okay with serving your time if you have to?"

House looked from her hand on his leg up to her and saw that she had her own version of Wilson's concerned puppy dog look on her face. He thought back to how he answered Foreman when he asked that question and realized that when House told him he has nothing left, she may have heard and taken it to heart. He felt worse about the kind of bastard this experience with Wilson had turned him into. He had always said mean things, but the difference was he was aware of what he was saying and how it would affect those around him when he said it. He didn't think about Cuddy's feelings when he answered.

"Listen, when I told Foreman that I had nothing to lose, I didn't mean-"

"No," Cuddy interrupted him, shaking her head. "You don't have to say anything. I don't expect to be as important or to be a big part of your life again over night. For the last couple of years it had been you and Wilson. I understand that. I deserve what you said. As much as you hurt me, I hurt you..and that triggered what you did. So House, please, just leave it at that. You need to concentrate on what you need to do, and we can figure out what we are later. Okay?"

He wanted to say it wasn't okay. That whether she realized it or not, she is a big part of his life because she was there. It didn't matter to him if it was because Wilson asked her to or not anymore, because he suggested an alternative for her if she didn't want to in the DVD he made. She could have easily told Foreman to get him and that would keep her at arm's length from him. But she didn't. She came to him because she still cared. He knew she did when he saw her at Wilson's funeral when she thought he was also gone. He saw that what he did didn't matter to her in that moment; what did is that she thought she lost him forever. But, she didn't want to hear his analyzing. Not now. She wanted him to do what he had to do, so he gave her that. He saw her still staring at him, and it dawned on him he never answered her question.

"I'm really okay with serving if I have to. If there's no way around it," he paused to think it over and shrugged his left shoulder, "then I'll do it." He looked into Cuddy's eyes and saw sadness in them.

"House, the way I found you, the shape you were in, I'm afraid that if you do go back," he inhaled knowing that she was worried, "just, please, remember there will be people waiting for you." She took his right hand into both of hers, "who want you to be okay."

He grabbed hold of her left hand with his right, which his palm was facing and squeezed it tight. Their eyes locked, both glossing over knowing what his future may hold. She blinked and set a tear loose and House watched as it slid down her cheek. He reached over with his left hand and cupped it under her chin and used his thumb to brush the tear away. His eyes found hers again which never left him and they both leaned in close, as though their fights, and the separation never happened, and their lips touched and fit the way they always have. Cuddy lifted her right hand off of his and brought it up to his cheek, feeling the unshaved face that she missed more than she thought she ever could...


	12. Chapter 12

Both Cuddy and House sat quietly on the couch after their kiss, which is as far as either of them would let it go and thought of what was about to happen. His right fingers were intertwined with her left as their hands rested on his right thigh. She sat straight while he was slouched down. The sound against the couch by the turn of his head to face her got her attention and she turned to look at him.

"The way I figure it is, if I don't do six months now, I'm going to eventually go back anyway, so trying to stay out is pointless; almost, moronic of me to do so." She shot him a confused look by the sudden announcement and he went on. "I told Thirteen I would kill her when her Huntington's got bad."

She released his hand more out of shock then wanting to let go and shifted her sitting position to better face him. "You what? When did you do this? Why didn't you tell me this when it happened?"

He looked down into his lap "we weren't really talking when this happened," she could see that he raised his eyes to look straight ahead. "I remember exactly when it was," he turned back to look at her, with his eyes showing pain in them. "It was on the day that would have marked our one year anniversary, had we...stayed together."

Her eyes filled with tears. "I remember that day," she shook her head and let out a laugh, "I wanted to call you then. To see how you were. I thought maybe you went to some bar or something. The last thing I would have imagined was you promising someone to kill them, putting your own future at risk in the-"

"She means something to me," he said softly, interrupting her, not knowing how to react to her confession of that day so skipped it all together and held her stare with his own. "She was a member of my team, she was scared that no one will be there when she got to the point where she wanted it to all be over, she was afraid to be alone." He shrugged his right shoulder, "I know that fear. I wanted to make her feel better, so I told her if she wanted me to, I'll kill her, which meant, I'll also be with her when it happened," he paused, thinking back to the look on Thirteen's face as she sat in his passenger seat of his car after he told her. "The same way I was there for Wilson when it happened, so he wouldn't be alone. The same way I'd be there for you if you needed me to..." he paused, with it hurting too much to just think of it hypothetically, "watch you die so you wouldn't be alone."

A tear fell from her left eye. "House, why do you do things like that?"

He looked confused, "I thought being there for the people I care about so they wouldn't be alone was a nice thing to do."

"Not that. That is a nice thing, but with what you promised Thirteen, it also... puts you at risk for being taken away and thrown in jail. Why don't you care about what happens to you?" she asked trying to make sense of it all.

"Well I haven't done it yet. She still has a few more good years. She hasn't-"

"You almost killed Wilson."

He looked away from her and she watched as within a matter of seconds the progress of bringing House back as himself and focused on what lay ahead that Foreman did, up to that statement all seemed to go away as he thought back to that moment in time which reminded him of his friends absence in his life. Wilson looked as bad as he did the day he actually died when he laid on House's couch begging him to not take him to the hospital or call 911 when it got too much for House to handle, not having the right things with him for what was happening. He wanted to die there, with House, not in a hospital, and not in an ambulance. A faint smile crossed House's lips, when he thought back to Wilson pulling out of it, and returned to work. "How did you hear about that?" he asked.

"Wilson told me. We still talked through phone calls and sometimes through emails," she smiled her own faint smile. "I think in some way that was him trying to show me that you've changed. That maybe there was a way that we could start again-" she drifted off, thinking back to that conversation. "In a way it worked. He knew that I was seeing a therapist to deal with my feelings about us, and I had a real break through in my next session. I told my therapist what you did, and," she shrugged her shoulders, "I love that about you, House. When you care about someone you care so much," her happiness was replaced by sadness. "But, I just wish you'd care about what happened to you a little bit more."

He nodded, "I'd do it over again if he were here to ask me. I wasn't the one with cancer or Huntington's. So why should I care about me? Whatever happens, I'll bounce back from it and land on my feet," he glanced down at his right leg, "foot," he corrected.

"You say that now but, there's only so many times you can do that before you stop getting up," she said with so much concern, it overwhelmed him. He didn't answer to her because he didn't know how, so she moved on. "You're not even going to try to fight to not serve your six months?"

"I'll try and get out of it because who knows," he shrugged his shoulder, having changed his mind since he brought the topic up because he saw how much it bothered her. "I may be able to and I may not get caught when the day comes where I have to-" he drifted off and looked around the living room ignoring the stare he felt from her, and inhaled, "I should go."

"Go?" she asked while watching him stand up with the help of his cane, caught off guard.

He shifted to face her. "I can't stay on your couch forever. I do appreciate everything you've done for me, but I need to do this. If I want to get better, I need to get a place of my own, a hotel for the time being so I could-"

"Be alone with your thoughts and get depressed all over again?" she asked skeptically.

He sighed and hunched over his cane. "I just don't want to be this guy anymore."

Cuddy saw the sadness in his expression and if she were completely honest, she didn't want him to be this guy anymore either. "Tomorrow. Spend one more night here, if you still feel like you're ready to be on your own like that without feeling too depressed and lonely to where you might do something stupid, then, we'll check you into a hotel room. But, I want it close by to me," she told him sternly.

"Okay," he motioned towards the hall, "I'm gonna take a shower now. If that's alright."

"Of course."

Cuddy watched him disappear in the hallway and thought over what he just revealed to her about his promise he made to Thirteen. She wished she knew about it back then, but, she's glad he told her now. She felt that with his opening up little by little there was a chance that they can get through this with Wilson and the two of them could end up being okay. She smiled, at the sound of the water starting in the shower and got up to make herself a cup of tea...


	13. Chapter 13

House woke up to a shake on the shoulder, and Cuddy's voice softly calling out his name. He doesn't remember falling asleep, but that could be the bourons fault. "House," Cuddy repeated. He fought with his eyelids to open and after three attempts he won. When he opened them he saw Cuddy's concerned face hovering over him. "How are you feeling?"

"How am I suppose to be feeling?" he asked groggily.

"Well, you had a lot to drink." He heard a noise against the coffee table and looked over to see her place a coffee mug on a coaster. "That's yours, I made it for you. Drink it when you're ready, and there's water on the table on the side of the couch where your head is." He nodded and looked back up at her who stayed seated on the little bit of couch that his body left available. "Are you still thinking of leaving today? To check into a hotel?"

He inhaled and licked his lips that stuck to his tongue because they were so dry. Cuddy saw it and reached past him, with him feeling her breasts rub against his chest and sat back how she was a second before with the glass of water for him. He placed both hands on the sides of him and scooted his body up to a sitting position and took the glass from her and took a couple gulps before answering her. He lowered the glass and looked back at her who sat and watched, as she waited for him to finish. "Yeah, I am."

She sighed, "alright. Then get ready, take a shower, pack your things and I'll decide on which place and check you in under my name."

He shook his head, "you don't have to. I go under the name Richard Dickerson now. I can check myself in."

Cuddy smiled, amused by his name and seeing it made House feel a little better. He had always loved seeing her smile like that. It reminded him of when they were a couple and she would constantly smile at him just like she did a second ago. "No. I'd feel better if I did it. Let me do this for you. You can owe me for the amount if that makes you feel more independent after you get everything done that needs to be done."

"You do remember how I am with owing people money, don't you? Do you know how much money I owe Wilson?...Owed, Wilson," he corrected. She didn't answer to that. She instead, laid her right hand on his left leg and gave him a sympathetic look. He sighed, "well, guess I should get going then." She shifted her sitting position to give him more room to get up and he made his way into her bedroom to grab clothes he needed, then went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. He stood for a second to take in what was going to happen today and sighed while bending over to start the water and yanked his shirt off his head and pulled down his pants to get into the shower.

When House was done ten minutes later he was surprised to see all his stuff already packed and in the living room up against the couch. He held his right thigh, having forgotten his cane and limped over to it now wanting his coffee that Cuddy set down for him but furrowed his brow in confusion when he saw it wasn't there. "Cuddy?" House shouted from where he stood.

"Yeah?" he looked around and headed towards the kitchen where he heard her voice. "What's wrong?"

"You did everything."

"Yeah, I know. I had the time, I figured I'd help you out," she answered.

"My coffee is gone."

She smiled at him, "no it's not." She opened the microwave that ended and started to beep at them, and took out the mug he recognized. "I warmed it up for you."

He looked at her skeptically after she handed it to him and he took it with his left. "Are you trying to coddle me to try and get me to change my mind about leaving?" he asked her as he limped his way to his favorite chair and set his cane down next to him and took his first gulp of the coffee.

She exhaled a laugh, "no. And its good to hear your starting to have your over-analyzing-to-the-point-of-it-being-annoying personality back," she replied with her back to him as she put together tea for herself.

"I had to change back at some point. I think Wilson would want me to change back to my old self. So don't blame me for trying to please my friend," he said with a smirk that she turned in time to see.

"I always did admire him for being able to tolerate you in your most insufferable states," she said with a hint of a smile that told him she was thinking back to those instances.

"So, since you have packed, I'm assuming you booked a place for me as well?" he asked as he watched her take her first sip of tea and placed it down instantly, making a face that told him it was too hot for her. He grabbed his cane to stand and went over to the refrigerator, opened the freezer and grabbed an ice cube from a tray and plopped it into her mug and sat back down. "That will help cool it a bit," he told her when he saw her gaze was fixated on him. She picked it up and took a sip with a smile.

"I did get you a room," she stated, answering his question. "I also called Foreman and told him where you are staying, what room, and what name to ask for at the front desk in case they ask."

"Which is?"

"My name."

He nodded, "yeah, I figured that. But, where am I staying?"

"It's a little hotel that's down the road. 'Stay the Night,' is what it's called. You have room 218. We can leave after you finish your coffee if you want. You can order room service for breakfast, or, you can eat here."

"I'll order room service."

She nodded, "okay. Then finish your coffee. If you change your mind, help yourself. I'll take a shower to take you there once I finish this," she lifted up her mug and took another sip.

Cuddy ended up dropping House off at the hotel around 10:30 after he opted to have breakfast at her place.

She stayed to visit for a while and would have stayed longer but she got a call from her hospital asking her if she could come in because something came up that needed her attention. She reluctantly agreed and told House if he needed anything don't hesitate to call her. After his response of "okay, Mommy," which under normal circumstances would have driven her crazy, she couldn't help but smile as she walked out and closed the door behind her.

He was left alone with his own thoughts which he spent thinking back to Wilson, his days spent at Princeton-Plainsboro, and wondered when or if he would ever work there again, when he was interrupted by a knock at the door.

He opened it carelessly without looking, knowing there were only two people who knew where he was and it was so late in the day he knew it could be either Cuddy or Foreman after they had ended their shift from their hospitals, but, he was surprised to see he was wrong.

"Hi, House."

"Hi," he answered, shocked and wide eyed, and watched as the person on the opposite side of the door was looking back at him as though he were a ghost. "How did you know where to find me?"

"Foreman."

House exhaled and shook his head, "of course."

"Are you going to let me in or are we going to catch up like this?"

"You want to catch up?" he asked still shocked.

"That, and, I'm hoping I can help you."

House nodded and took a step back to open the door wider to let Stacy in...


	14. Chapter 14

House awkwardly closed the door after Stacy walked in. He watched as she moved to sit on one of the two beds that were in the room and limped over to the opposite bed that was furthest from the window. He sat face to face with her in silence, not knowing what to say to the woman whom he hadn't seen in years.

"I'm sorry about James," she told him with sadness in her expression.

House exhaled and looked down, then back up to speak. "Is this why you're here? To talk about him? Because I gotta say," he squinted his eyes while looking past her, "I'm a little sick of hearing that...and well, I can't do it anymore."

"Okay, I just wanted you to know. He was a friend of mine too. But..no," she said, stopping herself, "I'm sorry."

He nodded his head as a thank you and moved past it. "So, why are you really here? I'm assuming you didn't drive all the way out here to tell me you're sorry about Wilson."

"No, that's not the only reason," she shifted from the bed she was on to his, sitting at his left side. She took a second before speaking, still in disbelief he was there with her, alive. "I got a call from Foreman who, seems to be helping you, looking for attorneys and-"

"Ah, you are one."

"Yeah, I am," she said softly, staring at him as he fixated on the spot she just vacated, and took hold of his left hand into hers to get his attention. "Greg, what did you do?"

"I, faked my own death," he said looking at her, feeling oddly comforted by her hand touching his. "I thought you talked to Foreman. Didn't he tell you?"

She let out a laugh and smiled at him. "I did. But, he didn't tell me the details. He told me to talk to you."

"Oh, I get it now. You're going to represent me so you need all the details, is that it? Don't you have specialties?"

"Since the last time we've crossed paths I've widened what I do. I can now also represent 'exes that ignore all rules and does what he pleases until he gets in so deep he needs help out' cases. Lucky for you, huh?" she asked with a smile, and leaned in, and nudged his shoulder with her own, which triggered a smile from him. "So, are you going to tell me the story so I know what I'm dealing with? To see if I can help...or, at least, reffer you to someone I know."

He sighed, "it's a long story."

"I have time."

House looked at her quizzically. "Mark won't care if you're staying out past your curfew with me?"

She hesitated before answering, dropping his hand that she held on to until that question and looked away from him into her lap. "Mark and I aren't together anymore," she answered.

He inhaled and studied the sullen look on her face. "What happened?"

She scoffed and looked back at him, "you know what happened. It's what you always thought would happen. There was resentment..and, well.." she drifted, and House looked down. "I'm sorry, Stacy."

"Oh don't apologize, Greg," she said sternly, "it's not who you are, and I know you don't mean it, you're just saying it because you think it's the right thing to say in a situation like this to get passed it because you're uncomfortable." He wrinkled his nose, annoyed that she knew him like she did. She sighed and started again. "So, tell me what happened."

House looked passed her and saw the alarm clock that sat in between the beds that read 6:19. He sighed, and decided to tell her everything, hoping that she could be the one to help him. "Okay," House started...


	15. Chapter 15

House caught Stacy up to the point of when Wilson passed away. He covered how he faked his death, whose body they thought was his, and even confessed to her being one of his hallucinations before the building exploded. Stacy excused herself to clean herself up from the tears she shed while hearing of Wilson's last moments and the concern he showed for House's well being after he was gone.

She came back into the room five minutes later and sat back where she was at his left. "So, how did you get here from the apartment you shared with him?"

House took a deep breath keeping his focus on his feet, "Cuddy."

"Cuddy, as in Lisa Cuddy?" Stacy asked surprised.

"Do we know another mutual Cuddy that I forgot about?" he asked sarcastically.

Stacy gave him a disapproving look at his answer, even though he didn't look at her to see it, but, from what she heard of his behavior since Wilson through Foreman, a part of her was happy to hear that reaction come from him. "I just...didn't think she'd be the one to come to your rescue is all. James," she paused, wondering how much she should say but by him turning his head to look at her with the mention of Wilson's name, she knew it was too late to take it back. "He and I talked off and on, and...I heard what happened between the two of you. So, I'm surprised, is all."

"Yeah, so am I. But," he took another deep breath and his eyes got wider for a second then went back, "apparently Wilson had his ways with the women in my life. He...made this thing and sent it to her."

"Thing?"

"A DVD. I found it at her place and played it. He went on about how sorry he was for not telling her about his cancer and basically said he was afraid I'd off myself after he went...like I can't live without his constant nagging and wouldn't know what to do with myself with all the pleasure of not hearing it anymore," he added sarcastically which Stacy knew he said to try and hide the fact that it was true. "Anyway, he asked her to go look for me..or send Foreman. But, she did."

"So she took you in and brought you here," Stacy stated.

"Yep. I'm still not entirely sure why she did it."

"Well," she started then took a second to think before she continued. "I kind of do," Stacy stated as a matter of fact and House looked at her with confusion wanting her to go on. "I'm not saying I have these feelings now but...as someone who has loved you, then, went away, and came back...well, Greg, its like I've said before you are like curry," he exhaled a laugh and looked away. "I don't think I need to explain do I? As much as I thought being away from you made me think I was over you...seeing you again," he looked over at her again and she furrowed her brow at his look of shock and continued, "back then, I mean, brought all those feelings back. So, maybe with Lisa, having known you for as long as she has, had been in a relationship with you...even though, what you did was terrible, being an ex like she is, I can see how those feelings might be coming back for her too."

House wondered how much of those 'old' feelings she was referencing about how she felt about him were still 'old,' but, he didn't question her about it. Instead, he stayed with the topic on hand of Cuddy."You say that..but, she's not you, Stacy. I fucked up with her more than I fucked up with you. She doesn't love me," he commented.

She raised her left eyebrow at him skeptically, "are you sure about that?"

House scanned her face, both looking at one another with kind eyes, while he sighed, thinking about what she said when the room phone started ringing. He grabbed his thigh for support and shifted where he sat from one bed to the one across from them to get closer to the phone and plopped himself down. He reached his right hand over to the receiver, after releasing his thigh from his grip and let it ring one more time before answering. "It's a funny thing," he said looking back at Stacy, "I'm a lot more popular now that I'm dead."

She smiled at him as she watched him lift the phone to his ear...


	16. Chapter 16

"Yeah?" House asked when he put the phone up to his ear.

"House? How are you settling in?" Cuddy asked on the other end.

"Fine. Foreman is starting to send attorneys over to me to see which one can handle taking me on. I have one here now," he said into the phone but kept his eye on Stacy.

"That's great, House! I can let you get back to him then. Is he helpful so far?"

"She's alright...a little skeptical of her motives though," he narrowed his eyes on her which she did in return while getting up, rolling her eyes and grabbed her purse that was next to him to get a dollar bill out to use in a vending machine she saw near his room for a soda. She walked towards the door, making sure it was unlocked and closed it after she walked through it to give House some privacy.

"She?" she asked curiously on the other end.

"Yeah," House answered, giving her no more than that, testing out to see where her feelings really lied. Stacy seems to think she cares more than she's letting on and House knows the jealous Cuddy tone all too well so gave her just enough information without revealing too much to see if he heard it.

"Oh," she said casually on her end, House made a face, thinking that maybe she learned how to guard herself better since they were last around each other, or maybe he was right in thinking that she doesn't love him anymore. So, he gave in and stopped testing her.

"Foreman sent Stacy," he added.

"He sent her?" He inhaled and grinned to himself at the sound of jealous Cuddy. He denied thinking there were feelings because he didn't want to give his hopes up and having her leave again, but there was something comforting hearing her jealousy that put him at ease. "House?"

He snapped out of his trail of thought when realizing he left her question unanswered, although it didn't really need an answer. "Yeah, he did," he shrugged for no one but himself still alone in the room. "It might be because she has known me for years. We have a history so," he squeezed his eyes shut wishing he could take that back.

"Yeah," she said softly.

House turned, relieved to see Stacy walk back in to distract him from the awkward direction the conversation was going in. "But, it's not like she's the only one I have history with I mean-" Stacy ran over and hit him on his left shoulder which was closest to him and she yanked the phone out of his hands and sat across from him on the other bed giving him a dirty look.

"Lisa? It's me, Stacy."

"Oh, hi, Stacy I didn't realize you were sitting so close to him to overhear our-"

"Lisa," Stacy interrupted. "Nothing is going on between the two of us," she gave House an even dirtier look then a minute ago when he grabbed her soda she bought out of her free hand and opened it to start drinking it himself.

"Why would you think I would care if anything was going on between the two of you? Like House said, you have history with each other and who am I to-?"

"Lisa, you also have history with Greg. And I know you care because I know that tone. I've been there before, remember? You were the one who gave me the job...who watched it all unfold in front of everyone's eyes when I tried to deny I cared...just like you're doing right now. But, I'm passed that. I'm here because I care about what happens to Greg, as a friend," she watched as he grew bored with listening in on what she was saying and grabbed his cane to get over to the mini fridge to pull out whatever looked appealing to him, "and because, depressed about James or not, I don't think anyone else will be able to put up with him."

Cuddy chuckled from her end, "God, isn't that the truth."

Stacy smiled herself, "isn't it? What's wrong with us, Lisa? Why do we find ourselves compelled to a guy as abrasive as he is?" House turned and scowled at Stacy, then turned back to continue his search in the fridge.

Cuddy let out another quick laugh, "abrasive would be an understatement in some things he's done," her smile faded as she continued, her tone turning serious, "but, look what he did. Look what he does to those he cares the most about."

"Yeah," Stacy agreed with a sigh, "he can play bastard all he wants but when it comes down to it..."

"He can still be a real bastard," Cuddy joked.

"Ha, yeah."

"Stacy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for helping him. In these kind of non-hospital situations, it was never me who was there for him. He always ran to Wilson. So.."

"I know, Lisa. I'll do what I can."

"And...thanks for, clarifying about..well.."

Stacy smiled, knowing she was right when she guessed she still loved him. "You're welcome."

"Tell House that I'll talk to him in a couple days."

"No, call him tomorrow. I'm going to stay here a little longer to talk things over with him, what our plan is going to be to take that next step. I imagine you would want to know all that."

"Yeah, I do. You're going to stay there longer? What does Mark think of all of this?" There was a pause on the other end. "Stacy?"

"That's another story all on it's own. I'll tell you some other time. I should get back to Greg before he eats everything in the fridge."

"Okay..bye," Cuddy responded, hanging up the phone. She should feel better knowing that Stacy was there just to help, and she probably would have if she didn't know there was a story about Mark. She wished she heard there was nothing going on through House. She was better at reading into his tones to try and decide if it was a lie or not. But she didn't know Stacy well enough to determine that. Her gaze lingered on the phone a little longer but was pulled away when she heard Rachel calling for her from her room...


	17. Chapter 17

House heard a knock getting louder and louder and realized he was waking up to it. He opened his right eye taking in his surroundings, seeing the hotel room around him and remembered where he was. Stacy was gone already, seeing the empty bed next to him. He offered she stay, and promised not to try anything and he proved it by staying in his bed the whole night. He glanced at the alarm clock on the night stand in between both beds that read 9:45am. He didn't know he was that tired. He heard the knock again after a brief pause and forced himself up and grabbed his cane.

He opened the door without much thought to check to see who it was first, and was face to face with Cuddy. He was taken aback by how beautiful she looked, though, she couldn't say as much for him. His hair was flying in all directions and his eyes were swollen due to his hard sleep, but she smiled at him anyway. "I just wanted to stop by to see how you were doing."

He opened the door wider to let her in and rubbed his eyes with his left hand. "Aren't you suppose to be at work? Why is it, you always seemed to be at Princeton-Plainsboro, not allowing me to do anything without you knowing but when you work somewhere else-"

"I had to be there all the time to make sure you didn't do anything without me knowing," she corrected when she walked in and closed the door behind her. "I'm going in now, I just stopped by here to see how you were is all. How long did Stacy stay?"

He shrugged casually, "dunno, she left before I woke up." The panic in Cuddy's expression was instant and after talking to Stacy about Cuddy, he had an idea why it was there. "Nothing happened. She stayed late, and got tired, she slept there," he pointed to the messy bed with his cane and saw she looked down at it but still showed uncertainty on her face. "Seriously, Cuddy, nothing...happened."

She looked back at him and saw his insistent look in his eyes and decided it was easier to believe him then worry if it were untrue. "So," she said, trying to move past it, "did you talk about everything you need to talk about?"

"More or less. I need to see her again before she schedules a court date so I can tell her more details of my story, but she at least knows what's going on."

"What's the story?"

He smirked at her, "what? And ruin it for you?" he paused when a thought hit him, "you aren't going to go when it happens?"

If anything were to convince her that he needed and wanted her around and that maybe he was telling the truth about Stacy, it was all in the look he gave her when he thought she wouldn't be there. It had hurt and sadness, and fear all in one. "House, of course I'm going to be there," she said softly.

He nodded and looked away, "then, you'll find out soon enough. But, I have to get ready to go."

"Where are you going?"

House sighed, "The hospital. Wilson's things are still there and Foreman told Stacy that if I want any of it..." his eyes got misty, but cleared his throat to push through it and went on, "and, I want to make sure Chase isn't putting the department to shame."

"How are you getting there? You don't have a car with you."

"Stacy offered to come by and get me to bring me if I need it so-"

"I can take you, it's fine," Cuddy blurted out. She wanted to help him all she could, and a part of her didn't want Stacy to see him more than she got to see him. She would never tell him that, but by the look he gave her, she had a feeling he already knew.

"Let me take a shower then, and we'll leave."

"Take a bath, it's better for your leg."

The right side of his mouth curved into a smile, "but don't you have to go to work eventually?"

"They can deal without me for a little while longer. Take a bath."

"Okay, Mommy."

Cuddy smiled at his normalcy coming through more regularly since Wilson, as she watched him limp into the bathroom after scooping clothes up from the top of the table the hotel had in the corner of the room and only partly closed the door behind him. She heard the water running then after a minute it shut off. She grabbed a magazine on the night stand of what the hotel has near it and enjoyed the noise of pleasure House made as he lowered himself into the tub, feeling the hot water on his right leg...


	18. Chapter 18

House was done with his bath fifteen minutes later and Cuddy heard him push himself out and let the water drain as he got dressed. "You were just sitting there the whole time?" he questioned, seeing her sitting on the bed he slept on.

"No, I was looking through a magazine."

He nodded when seeing it sitting on the night stand. "Well, I'm just about ready to go, so-"

"I can go with you, if you want. Instead of just dropping you off," Cuddy offered.

"I'll be fine. I've gone there a whole year without you and survived so-" he exhaled when he saw her expression sadden, with her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry, Cuddy. If you want to come with me you can."

"No, you're right. You don't need me with you," she told him as she watched him put on his sneakers. "You go see your old team, talk to Foreman, they will be happy to see you, I just saw them at.." she drifted, not wanting to finish the sentence. "Take my car though. Bring me to my hospital, go over there, and pick me up, then I'll drive you back here and take it back from there."

House looked at her skeptically when he sat up straight, having finished with his shoes,"you suggesting this wouldn't have anything to do with making sure I'm okay, does it?"

She shrugged with a smirk, "maybe it does a little."

He smiled softly at her, grabbed his cane and motioned his head towards the front door for her to stand up after he grabbed his hotel key, "c'mon, let's go."

From the hotel House arrived at Cuddy's hospital within fifteen minutes. She quietly let herself out of the passenger side and walked around the front of the car to face him. "I'm going to ask one more time."

He let out a chuckle, "I'll be okay. What time do you need me to come back here and get you?"

"Five."

He nodded and looked above the rim of the steering wheel to look at the place Cuddy now refferred to as her hospital. It looked nothing like Princeton-Plainsboro, and it pained him to think that that's what she may have been trying to do. Find somewhere that gave her no memories at all of her life there; her life with him. He felt her still standing next to her car and turned his head. She looked at him sympathetically and he wondered how much his expression showed what he was thinking. She took a step closer, reached in the car through the rolled down window and cupped his face and gave him a kiss. "I'll see you later," she whispered and walked away from the car towards the entrance. He sat there before restarting it, to watch her sway her hips. He sighed heavily, realizing how much he missed that. He saw her open the door and walk in, and he started the car and left.

* * *

House hesitated near the lobby door to Princeton-Plainsboro. He stormed out and in, and limped in and out of this place so many times. It held so many memories, good and bad, and he was afraid that once he stepped foot in the lobby, now that Wilson was gone, everyone thinking that he was also until recently, and the world not making any more sense to him because of it, that all those memories will vanish and his world here will be tainted; replaced with the memories of this one day.

He took a deep breath and limped through the door. He felt all eyes on him, and to avoid being there as long as possible, he chose to skip telling Foreman he arrived and went straight to the elevator to go up to what used to be his floor. But, Foreman found him anyway in passing. "House, you're here. All of Wilson's things...which is why I'm assuming you are here, are still held where his...in his office."

"Good, going up?"

"No, heading to my office."

"Okay," House stepped inside when the doors opened and Foreman walked away with his eyes on House for as long as the elevators doors allowed.

The doors slid open to let him free and slowly took everything in, while consciously not looking towards the office of what used to be Wilson's. He winced when he reached the glass wall to the adjoining room to his old office and saw the familiar faces sitting around the table as Chase stood near the white board talking. Chase's eyes found House and froze with an instant smile that stretched from ear to ear. All the members of the team curiously looked in the direction of House, seeing the reaction from Chase and stood up, ready to greet him when he entered.

"Why didn't I ever get this kind of welcome when I was in charge?" House joked, trying to keep things as normal as possible.

"You look...good, House," Park said while staring at him.

He arched his right eyebrow at her watching her staring, "well you know, I didn't actually get burnt in that fire."

"Explosion," Thirteen corrected, who House was happy to see back at the hospital.

"Whatever," he snapped.

"Well, its good to see dying hasn't changed you," Taub said then looked around awkwardly when he saw House's expression change, knowing he was thinking about Wilson. "I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant," House answered, getting Taub off the hook.

"Chase, come with me will you?"

"Where?"

"Just come on."

Chase put the marker down he was holding and followed House out of the room. They walked down the hall in silence and Chase saw that they were headed in the direction of Wilson's office.

"I may need your help in taking things out because-" House stopped talking when he was face to face with the door to Wilson's office, that still had his name on it. He swallowed loudly. "So, it's not just a place for his things? No one really haven't done anything to his office yet, have they? It's as he left it?"

"Yeah. He used to call every now and then when you guys...when we thought it was just him, went away to check up on patients that he had when he left. So, Foreman thought to leave it in case he ever came back instead of called, so he'd have a place. And since...are you sure you want me to go in there with you?" Chase asked House cautiously.

"Don't you guys have a new head of Oncology? Where is his office?" House asked, going around Chase's question.

"Across the hall, down there," he pointed behind them.

House shifted his body and followed Chase's finger, "is he any good?"

Chase shrugged, "he's alright...I guess."

"Well," House started and looked at Chase before continuing, "I guess with cancer it doesn't matter how good you are because no matter what you do, your patients will die anyway."

Chase looked away from House and over to Wilson's door and his eyes shifted to the floor, "Wilson was good."

"Yeah," House sighed and stomped his cane to the ground to take a step. "C'mon Chase," he said over his shoulder as he limped to the familiar office door.

His hand hesitated for a second when he reached the door knob. "You want me to open it?" Chase asked him.

"I can do it," he snapped. "But, thanks," he said quietly.

Chase smiled at him, even though he wasn't looking and let House walk in and look around before he followed in his footsteps and closed the door behind him. They both looked around, silently remembering their own experiences spent in the office and Chase instantly felt bad for House. He was found in here more than where he was suppose to be and can only imagine the pain he was feeling, but knew him well enough to know he'd never admit it.

"I want this," House announced, pointing to Wilson's Vertigo poster.

"Good choice," Chase responded.

House limped over to it and placed his cane against the wall to take it off. "What the hell did he do? Mount this thing to the wall?"

"No, but he tried to I think. After you replaced all his posters with poster-sized pictures of him in that porno he was in, that's the first thing he did, was put these back on there pretty tightly."

House shook his head with a smile, remembering that moment that Chase referred to. "Well, then help out your former boss...whose a cripple," he emphasized, "and get that down for me." Chase quietly obeyed, walking over and looked behind it, formulating a way to do it, while House scanned the rest of the office and found a wrapped box stuffed in between two of his books on the shelf behind his desk. He pulled it out and looked at it confused while shaking it, seeing his name written on the name tag Wilson taped on to it.

"What's that?" Chase asked, looking over at House while pulling at the framed poster.

"It's something for me," House answered turning the box around and around, analyzing it.

"Well open it," Chase said giving the frame one last pull and nearly fell forward when it broke free, and set it against the desk for House to take when he was ready.

House tore at the paper and opened the box and smiled with a chuckle when he pulled out the hat that he recognized as the one House wanted the last time they saw monster trucks together but when he went back to go get it, it was gone. "That sneaky bastard was the one who bought it," he said to himself. Chase stayed quiet, knowing if he wanted to explain he will, but, never did. Instead, House looked it over and placed it on his head. He started to close the box to dump it into the trash can when he saw a piece of paper that looked like a little card that typically attached to gift bags in the corner. He pulled it out and turned it over and saw Wilson's handwriting. He read the note he scribbled which said:

"House, Here's the damn hat you wanted so bad you bastard. Happy birthday, Wilson."

He slipped the card in his jean pocket and looked at Chase, "can you help me bring that down to the car? And tell Foreman I'm not done in here."

"Sure," Chase said and watched as House limped around the desk. "House," he said to get his attention. He looked up at him and Chase embraced him with a hug.

"Oh, God, I forgot, you're the hugger," House said, trying to ignore how nice the embrace actually felt.

Chase pulled away, thinking he was making House uncomfortable, "I'm just glad you're not really dead." Chase bent down to grab the framed poster and walked ahead of House, knowing he might want to take one last look before leaving for the day.

* * *

After Chase helped House with the framed picture, he went back in to say good bye to Foreman and headed back to the hotel until it was time to get Cuddy.

When he did, she walked out right at five with a smile on her face when she saw him waiting in the car. "I'm sorry I didn't go in to get you, my leg hurts."

"It's fine," she said with the smile still lingering. "I called my sister to ask to take Rachel for the night...I was thinking of staying with you at your hotel, if that's alright with you."

"It's fine," he answered, keeping his eyes on the road.

"I'll sleep in the other bed," she offered.

He winced, "okay."

Cuddy fell into silence, wondering what that reaction of her sleeping in the other bed meant, and started thinking that maybe she wasn't the only one who was having these mixed feelings. They fell into comfortable silence for the rest of the way to the hotel, and for most of the night, having depended on the television for entertainment. She wanted to ask how his day at the hospital went, but knew he would bring it up if he wanted to, so she never asked. She smiled at his choice of what he took from Wilson's office when he asked her if she could bring it in for him. She placed it against the wall next to the bed he chose for himself.

After they both took turns using the bathroom to change into what they were wearing to sleep, which, since staying over was last minute for Cuddy, House gave her one of his t-shirts to wear, she slid into the spare bed, and House climbed into his and turned the light off for her. He didn't feel that tired, but as a courtesy to her, he turned everything off. He looked over at her who was facing with her back towards him and he flipped the covers off of himself to use the bathroom.

He limped back into the room as quietly as he could when he was finished and laid in the middle of his bed. He turned to stare at the Vertigo poster when he was torn away from it when he heard noise coming from Cuddy's bed. He saw her climb out and lifted the covers off of his bed and slid in next to him and wrapped her left arm around his stomach and laid her head on his chest. "What are you doing?"

"Shut up, House and go to sleep."

He stared down at her and out of habit and out of just wanting to keep her close to him, he draped his left arm around her back. He heard her sigh when he touched her and he went back to staring at the poster. Within a few minutes House drifted into unconsciousness...


	19. Chapter 19

House looked around at the familiar room and down at the chair he was sitting in. Something seemed different. He continued to look around, trying to find what was off, and grabbed his tennis ball and threw it in the air and caught it.

It dawned on him.

He looked down at his right thigh and rubbed it. He put pressure on it and lifted his hand away. It didn't hurt. He pushed his chair away from his desk and walked around. He wasn't limping. He grinned and sat back down, turning around and around in his chair, feeling dizzy but he couldn't care less. "Hey," he heard from the intruder that just entered.

His left palm slammed against the surface of his desk to stop the turning and was face to face with Wilson. "Hey," was all he managed to say back. He watched carefully as Wilson walked in and took a seat at a chair across from House and made himself comfortable.

"What's with you?" he asked, questioning the way House looked at him.

"You're..." he paused, "of course," he looked down at his leg, "I'm dreaming."

"What?"

House glanced back up at Wilson, who he was so happy to see, he didn't want to change anything, "nothing," he said, afraid if he told him he would somehow disappear. "What's up? What are you doing here?"

"Are you kidding me? You come into my office all the time! You're saying I'm not allowed to come in here?" Wilson's voice was raised, getting offended by the idea.

"No, I meant there has got to be a reason why you came in now," he told him.

"Oh," Wilson calmed but still had his defense up, in case there was a loop hole, a trap that House was trying to leer him into. "Nothing, really. I don't have any patients and I-"

"You never not have any patients," House retorted, feeling good to talk this way to him again. "People die from cancer every-" he caught himself and hunched, looking at Wilson with sad eyes.

"What? People die from cancer every what?"

"Forget it," House answered, looking down at the surface of his desk.

"Are you okay, House?"

He looked back at Wilson, who had concern in his face, and looked at him questionably. "No. You're making me second guess everything I've ever believed in just by you sitting here with me!" he shouted now frustrated that his comment he couldn't finish brought him back to the reality of the situation.

Wilson's eyes flashed relief and he took a deep breath. "So, you did figure it out on your own. I don't have to tell you right? I don't have to act like we're just here at work?"

"Tell me what?" now he was getting angry how even in his dreams Wilson was being a pain in the ass with all his questions.

"Are you even considering what this will do to her?"

"What? Do what to who? I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, House!" Wilson screamed. House surveyed his demeanor and recognized it as Wilson's body language that he usually used when House is being self-destructive.

"No, I don't!"

Wilson sighed, "what did you do when you went to the bathroom?"

"I didn't go to the bathroom! I've been here the whole time before you walked in and-"

"I'm not talking about here! In the hotel room, what did you do in there? What did you take?"

"How did you know I took anything in the bathroom? You aren't there! You weren't in there with me!

"House! What did you take?"

He huffed, irritated with his persistence. "Fine. I took some heroin, big deal, I was looking for a high...it worked. I fell to sleep and now I'm dreaming with you nagging about how I did it!"

Wilson shook his head, looking at him sympathetically. "No, House. Did you have a drink in there with you?"

House replayed the moment in his head. He couldn't sleep and remembered he shoved both heroin and burboun under the sink. He had both with him the whole time. He hid them from Cuddy when he got things together leaving the apartment he shared with Wilson, and kept them hidden until he got to the hotel. When he wasn't tired, he reminded himself of those so he sneaked into the bathroom, took the heroin and gulped down some of the bottle before flushing the toilet to make it seem like he just went in there to pee. He looked at Wilson wide-eyed when he realized what he was trying to tell him.

Wilson looked sadly at him, "you're not dreaming, House. You're dead."...


	20. Chapter 20

"I can't be dead! I'm dreaming, and you're a liar!"

"I'm not lying, House!"

House got up and paced behind his desk, scowling at Wilson. "This is what you've always been waiting for hasn't it? For me to finally learn my lesson! This is your plan is scare me straight isn't it? Since you're not alive to nag me about how much Vicodin I've taken, you have to enter into my dreams through my subconscious to tell me I'm dead, then I'm gonna wake up and be scared clean. That's what this is, isn't it?"

"I wish it was, House. But the fact is-"

"The fact is you're the fucking reason I took heroin in the first place! If you hadn't-!" House stopped his pacing and leaned forward across his desk to get as close to Wilson's face as he could, "if you hadn't gotten cancer I never would have-!"

"Don't pin this on me!"

"I am! Because its the truth! Its all your fault!"

"I don't want this to happen either, House!" He watched as House went back to pacing. "You think I LIKE the fact that you left Cuddy with no one? If she can't revive you then-!"

House stopped and looked at Wilson. "Cuddy! Cuddy is here...there, with me, in the hotel! If she can get me somewhere soon enough then maybe-!"

"I hope she can, House," Wilson said softly, switching off his anger.

House continued to pace, "who the hell am I kidding? If I were dead, I wouldn't be here! Even if there were such a thing as heaven, it wouldn't be this place! But there isn't! If I were dead there would be nothing!" He looked at Wilson, expecting him to agree with him but instead, he just looked back at him sympathetically.

* * *

The ambulance doors opened and through blurred vision due to tears Cuddy saw the look of panic on Foreman, Chase, Taub, Adams, Park, and Thirteen, who were all waiting. "What happened?" Foreman asked Cuddy as they lowered an unconscious House out of the ambulance and started to wheel him into the emergency room while Foreman and Thirteen stayed behind to hear the details.

"He was asleep," Cuddy said between sobs. "I was lying against his chest...I heard his breathing...his heart...and then...it just..." Cuddy's tears streamed down uncontrollably.

"Did he take anything?" Foreman asked, putting a hand on Cuddy's right shoulder to try and show her comfort, but still trying to get all that he needs.

"I...I don't think so."

"How long has he been out?"

"I called the ambulance...I was giving him mouth to mouth..."

"Cuddy, how long?"

"Ten...fifteen...maybe?" Cuddy answered, not wanting it to be the truth because she knew the chances of survival after anything longer than a few minutes was doubtful. Foreman ran into the emergency room to help the team and Thirteen stayed with Cuddy and opened her arms to hug her. "Dr. Hadley," Cuddy cried out, relieved that she was there. She knew House had Park and Adams on his team but she didn't really know them. So it was comforting to fall into the welcomed arms of someone she remembered.

She held onto her and guided Cuddy through and found where House's old team was. Taub, Park, and Adams were on stand-by, ready to help, while Foreman and Chase were on both sides of him. Chase was hooking him up to the monitors to read a heart rate and ran to get the paddles ready when he was done while Foreman was doing CPR. "Get her out of here!" Foreman screamed at Thirteen.

"No, it's Hoouusee!" Cuddy shouted through tears.

"I know it is which is exactly why-!"

"Foreman!" Thirteen yelled, "she is not going anywhere!" she answered through clenched teeth.

Foreman continued CPR while looking at Thirteen whose eyes were glossy but full of anger and then looked at Cuddy whose eyes he could barely see through her tears but had a pleading expression. "Fine, stay," he gave in and looked back at House's chest.

"Thank you," Cuddy whispered to Thirteen, grabbing a tighter hold on her shirt.

"Dammit House, you bastard! Come back!" Foreman screamed at him as he showed no reaction.

Chase ran over with the paddles, "move Foreman!" Foreman stepped away, "clear!" House's body jumped off the bed, still nothing.

"Again Chase!" Foreman screamed.

"Clear!"

Nothing.

"House!" Cuddy screamed.

"Clear!" Cuddy buried her face into Thirteen's right shoulder, not being able to stand seeing House's body jump lifelessly. "Shit, House, clear!" Chase screamed. He was about to call clear again when Foreman put his hand out.

"Wait!" Foreman stared intently at the screen. "I saw something, one more time!" Cuddy turned to look, holding her breath.

"Clear!"

The weight of the room lifted off their shoulders when they saw the line indicating his heart beat bounce. Both Chase and Foreman's bodies tilted back, the tension that they felt drained out, and nodded approvingly at each other and looked over at Thirteen and Cuddy. Thirteen smiled through her tears that were streaming down and Cuddy was crying harder, relieved that he was back. Taub, Adams, and Park exchanged hugs. Cuddy ran to his side when Thirteen loosened her grip on her, knowing she wanted to go to him.

Foreman took a step back, letting her through as he stared down at House then back up at his heart rate. Chase walked over to stand with Thirteen to give Cuddy some privacy. "I need House moved to ICU! Get him his own room, and I want him watched at all times! Don't blink at the same time or I'm going to hear about it!" Foreman shouted to all the surrounding staff. He took a step closer to Cuddy who was holding House's right hand up to her face, kissing it, while looking down at him, hoping he would open his eyes. "Cuddy why don't you go get some rest-"

"I'm not leaving him," she said still looking at House.

"You must be exhausted. When he-"

"I'm not. leaving. House!" she shouted, turning to face him.

Foreman sighed, and looked at all the tears that clouded her eyes, "get a cot for Dr. Cuddy! Put it in House's room!" he shouted over his shoulder, while never breaking eye contact with her.

"Thank you, Foreman." Cuddy looked back down at House, while Foreman left her alone with him. She continued to hold his hand in hers as she waited for them to be moved to ICU...


	21. Chapter 21

Cuddy was laying on the cot that the nurses had moved into House's room for her, but refused to sleep. She ignored all the different ways they all said it. She knew they were only trying to help, and she thanked them for that, but, she wanted to be awake when House woke up. She had her eyes closed for some rest but made a habit of forcing them open after a few seconds to not drift off to sleep. She had them closed when she heard noise in the private room that they gave him. "What are you doing?" Cuddy asked Foreman when she opened them and saw him walking towards House. She raised her head from the pillow when he stood next to him.

"You should be sleeping," he answered taking out a needle from the drawer of the table next to House's bed.

"You should be answering my question," she retorted. Foreman arched an eyebrow at her and turned back to House. "Sorry, I come back here and I still feel like I'm Dean of Medicine, in charge of everything."

"Yeah, well, that would be me. I'm the Dean of Medicine now."

"Yeah, and I also remember, as Dean of Medicine, when a loved one of a patient asks a question, and you decide to be the doctor or, one of the doctors on the case and they direct the question to you, you answer."

"Loved one? You and House are back together?"

Cuddy looked at House with a sad expression. "No, I mean...I shouldn't want to be. We aren't but," she sighed, "it's House; and no matter how terrible a thing he did to me...and no matter how long it took me to get over it...and how long I hated him for doing it because he made me leave everything just to get away from him...he's an insane, antisocial, egotistical genius who would never intentionally do anything to anyone that they didn't ask for...He'll screw with who he believes are morons just because of the fact that he believes they are and they deserve it," it dawned on her she was getting off topic and steered it back to her point. "I hurt him more than I ever realized I could. Which just means, despite all the things I just listed about him that makes him sound like a terrible person who could never love or care for anyone.." she sighed again, this one a little longer then the first, " the hurt I did to him, he was trying to hurt me back. He loved me...maybe still does...But, whether he does or not, I'll always love him." Even more sadness fell upon her expression, "we're not back together."

Foreman heard the hurt in her voice and turned to look at her, "I'm checking his blood for any traces of drugs he could have taken that set this off."

"You think that's what really caused this?"

"It's House," Foreman answered, matter of fact.

"Yeah...it's House," she looked away from House for the first time since Foreman walked in to look at him. "What are you testing him for?"

"Anything hard. Cocaine, heroin, those types of drugs. Knowing him, he was looking for a high so went with whatever he could get his hands on," Foreman watched as the last of House's blood that he needed filled the vial and started to detach it while looking at the face of a man he once hated, left because he didn't want to be like him, came back because no one else would take him, had to be a boss to and on some level, hated him all over again because of the headaches he used to give him once he had that role, but now, seeing him in a hospital bed, although he has many times before in the past, this seemed different. He didn't know if it was because since the last time he did something stupid and destructive to himself that won him a stay in the ICU, he had faked his own death, lost a best friend, and miraculously gained back Cuddy in his life, but only if he comes out of whatever it was that he did to himself that made it so different. But, something was. Something about seeing him lay there the way he was, seemed so final, Foreman felt that they were losing him for real this time and that scared him.

It was too much for Foreman to take in. He felt sad for House, because of his gain of Cuddy back into his life, and longed for him to wake up to be able to enjoy it. He knew the longing for him to wake up would soon pass once he did and started to be the sarcastic ass he had always been and will long for him to be out again just to get some peace; but, despite all his faults, the ones that Cuddy listed in her own rant, and the ones she left out but he knew were there, all those things come with the whole package of House. And there were some good qualities to him also. It was the good as much as the bad which kept all of them wanting him to be okay. Foreman knew he would tell them they were all morons for caring for a guy like him the way they all secretly and some outwardly do, but, that's just something he has to deal with.

"Is it bad to hope that its a drug that did this to him and not the alternative?" Cuddy asked, pulling Foreman out of his thought.

"You mean the alternative of, he's done so many drugs and destruction to himself that his body has finally had enough and is shutting down?"

Cuddy looked down and away, a tear falling from her right eye, "yeah...that alternative."

Foreman took a couple steps towards Cuddy after taking his gloves off and placed his left hand on her shoulder for comfort while clutching House's vial of blood in the other. "We're going to do everything we can for him. You know that don't you?"

She looked up, her eyes full of tears that fell freely. "Yeah, I do," she mustered out a weak smile.

Foreman sighed and smiled at her while and lifted up the vial, "I'm going to give this to the lab. I'll tell you the minute I know anything."

Cuddy watched him walk towards the door to leave. "Thank you, Foreman," she called out to him. He nodded in parting and Cuddy turned her head back to face House, aching to go back to earlier that night, which is now turning into last night for her, back to the time when House casually drove them both back to the hotel, awake and coherent. She stood up from her cot, took her right hand and pet his head, getting her fingers lost in his hair and stared at his eyelids covering his eyes, hoping desperately that they open soon...


	22. Chapter 22

Hours went by and all Cuddy had been doing was drinking coffee and staring at House. "You should really try and get some sleep," Chase said coming in with a sandwich for her.

She smiled at the gesture of getting her food that she didn't ask for and opened it as soon as he handed it to her. "I know I should but..." she drifted, looking back towards House.

"You're afraid of missing the moment he opens his eyes," he finished for her.

"Yeah," she answered sadly.

Chase let out a slow breath, "I know you are waiting for that moment but, don't you think it would be better to sleep now, so when he does wake up, you can enjoy that time with him?"

She never thought of it that way. All she wanted were those damn eyes to look at her, she didn't think of how exhausted she would be once that happened if she refused to get any sleep now. Leave it to Chase of all people out of the members he has had in his team, to think logically the way House would. The one she would have expected to hear something like that from would be Kutner. Sadness washed over her when she thought of him. So much death surrounded House; old members of his team, his Dad, even though he wouldn't acknowledge that loosing him meant anything to him, his best friend, and now he had a run in with it himself. He had experienced so much pain and guilt, he would probably take her exhaustion if he were to see it as another thing to feel guilty about. No, Chase was right. She should get rest, for what he said and also, she didn't want House to feel bad for her lack of sleep. "Okay," she said, finally giving Chase an answer. "I'll eat this and get some sleep. They will wake me up when he does if I don't before, right?" she asked.

Chase smiled softly at her, "of course. I'll go and tell them."

After Chase walked out, she started to shove the sandwich in her mouth with monstrous bites for her, trying to consume it as fast as she could. She smiled as she did it, with the way she chose to eat reminding her of House. She used to love teasing him with the idea of sex after they were finished eating and he would devour whatever was in front of him to get her in bed.

She put her hand on her stomach after she was done, leaving the wrappers on House's tray next to his bed, immediately regretting the pace she chose for herself. He had to have been in pain after the way he ate all those times, she thought to herself. She looked at the clock on the wall that told her it was 3:37 in the morning. She closed her eyes when she shifted to lay down and saw him in her minds eye. She smiled at the sight of him. I'll just sleep for a few minutes, she thought to herself as she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

He heard voices mumbling. They sounded too far to be anywhere near him, but not far enough to not be heard. All he saw was pink and felt a mattress beneath him. The pink he realized were the insides of his eyelids. But God, they felt heavy, he thought. He listened more intently to the voices and heard familiar noises, paging sounds to go with them. He was at the hospital. He fought against his eyelids to open them and after some struggle he won. He saw Intensive Care Unit written on the glass of the sliding door to his room and looked to his right where he heard rhythmic breathing.

Cuddy.

He lifted his arm, motioning for her to get up, not quite finding his voice yet, but there was no reaction. He wanted her to wake up. He looked away from her over towards the glass door, seeing nurses rushing all around but none of them were looking in. He glanced at the clock on the wall that read 4:23. He didn't know if it was AM or PM, but with Cuddy sleeping he had to figure it was AM. He looked back at her upset with himself for putting her through dealing with his own self-destructive stupidity. He opened his mouth, trying to find his voice again, "Cuddy," he said, only being able to muster a whisper.

He had an idea. He looked around his bed and found the button to call a nurse in. He located it at his left and hit the button as hard as he could to make sure it went through. A couple seconds later a nurse that he recognized but never cared to learn her name came rushing in. "Dr. House, you're awake!" he wanted to comment with a snide remark for pointing out the obvious but saved his energy for what he wanted to ask her. He moved his arm signalling her to come closer to him. She hesitantly did while keeping her eyes on him. "What do you need?" she asked.

"Wake up Cuddy," he whispered.

She looked from House to Cuddy and walked around the left side of his bed to his right to get to her. "Dr. Cuddy," she said a little louder than a whisper. House watched as he eagerly awaited. "Dr. Cuddy," she repeated shaking her lightly on her shoulder.

"Mmmmwhat?" she mumbled.

"Dr. Cuddy, its House, he's awake and asking for you."

The nurse stood up and stepped out of her way when Cuddy jerked her body and her eyes popped open. "He's awake?" Cuddy replied, looking frantic at the nurse and turned to face House who silently looked back at her. She shot off of the cot and rushed to his side as the nurse smiled and exited, leaving them alone.

"House!" Cuddy shouted with tears building up. She lifted her right hand and touched his face. His eyes fluttered shut for a second as she caressed his right cheek. "No!"

He opened them, letting her know that he was still awake. He couldn't remember the last time he saw her look so unhinged, then he reminded himself he could. It was at Wilson's funeral when she thought he was dead too. He hated that within such a short time he had made her look this way twice. "Cuddy," he whispered. She smiled through tears at the sound of his voice. "I'm sorry."

She leaned into him and draped her arms around his head as soon as the words escaped him. "It's okay, House, its okay," she said, as he felt her hands stroking his hair. "You're awake now, you're alive, it's okay." He closed his eyes, some of his tension draining out of him, feeling her cheek against his. She moved away and kissed the right side of his cheek, teasing the corner of his mouth and laid her head back down next to his, her grip tighter around his head. He felt her hair covering his face and inhaled deeply, taking in her scent...


	23. Chapter 23

"Cuddy," House said softly as she continued to lean over him, with her arms clutched tightly around his head not wanting to let go.

"What?" she asked without moving.

The unsteady sound in her voice told House that she was crying. He took a closed mouth deep breath, causing her hair to tickle his skin by the force of his breath. "I was stupid. I did a stupid thing, and I'm sorry."

She let go, and slowly sat down on the cot and wiped her eyes and glanced up at him when they weren't as wet, "what do you mean? What did you do?"

"I..." he hesitated, not knowing if he wanted her to know, but knew they probably ran a blood test on him and he wanted her to hear it from him and not them, and the fact that she was asking, told him that they haven't gotten the results, or, haven't come in to tell her yet. "I took some heroin, in the bathroom at the hotel, and...mixed it with burboun. That's what did this." He winced, expecting her to yell and be mad at him, instead, she smiled through her tears. "You're happy? You're happy I almost killed myself?"

"No, of course not," she answered, her smile even bigger while looking to the side to wipe away tears that were building up.

"Then what is it?"

"I was hoping you did it to yourself; that way you can prevent it from happening again. I thought-"

Foreman came into the room interrupting what Cuddy was saying as she looked over to see him, "I hear you're awake."

"From who?" he asked giving him a curious look.

"Nurse Catherine," he said while walking up to him and started listening to his heart.

"Nurse who?"

"Shut up, House, I'm trying to listen," he told him.

He scowled at him and looked over at Cuddy. "That's the nurse that woke me up," she answered.

He nodded and looked back at Foreman, his scowl back. "Quit touching me," he whined, pulling his arm away from Foreman's hold.

"Stay still," he answered firmly. "So, what did you do? How did this happen?" Foreman inquired.

"You mean you didn't test my blood?" he asked sarcastically. "I'm surprised."

"We did, it hasn't come back yet. It's easier to ask," he arch his eyebrow at him, "I hope."

"I took some heroin, and mixed it with alcohol," he said looking down almost ashamed.

Foreman glanced at Cuddy with a smile, remembering her comment she said earlier, "that's great," he said cheerfully.

"That's great?" House nearly shouted in disbelief. His glance went between Cuddy and Foreman who held happy expressions. "What the hell is wrong with you two? Am I stuck in some different dimension where up is down, and the things that you used to get mad at me about, I now get praised for? Can I stay in this one and get rehired? I want to take Vicodin again without getting BITCHED at."

Foreman stepped away from House, who was done with checking all he needed. "Why don't you tell him," he told Cuddy. "I'll leave you two alone for a while."

Cuddy watched as he walked out and looked over at House when Foreman was gone, who was staring at her waiting for an explanation. "I...was hoping that you did this to yourself with drugs...because, that means that," her eyes fell down away from him to the floor, " your body isn't shutting down as a reaction to all the drugs you've taken in the past."

He frowned, disappointed in himself. "Cuddy if I had known that we would have happened, when we got together and now, coming back into each others lives like this, and had known you would think-"

"No, don't. I'm not looking for you to say that if you knew something like this would have happened, where I would worry like I was, that you wouldn't have taken Vicodin all those years, when we both know its not true. Don't do that."

He huffed, knowing she was right. "I've been clean...for a long time, before this. After prison," he saw her wince at the mention of that place, knowing it reminded her of what happened between the two of them, so he pushed forward. "When Wilson got sick, and it was just me and him out there, I stayed clean for him. He deserved at least that from me. I took nothing while I watched him take everything. It was hard, and I wanted to just not feel anything as I sat and watched him turn into a guy...I didn't even recognize anymore," he sniffed and looked away from her and into his lap. "He was all I had left. And as badly as I wanted to numb myself from it all, I also, wanted to be able to remember every moment with him. Every...lame joke he told," his mouth curved into a half smile, "every great joke he told." He sighed and met Cuddy's gaze which he saw her eyes big and full of tears, his mirrored it. "I just...wanted to not think about how he was gone. Just for a night...just take that all away. I'm sorry I did it when you were there. I didn't mean to put you through any of this."

Cuddy's tears that were clinging to her eyes slid down her cheeks when she blinked. His eyes softened on her, his tears held on tight on the bottom of his eyes, not wanting to drop. He knew how much this was tearing her apart. She wiped them off before they fell all the way down her face and their eyes stayed on one another without either of them speaking. They didn't even notice that the door slid open, and another set of eyes fell upon them...


	24. Chapter 24

House and Cuddy pulled their gaze off of one another when they heard a throat being cleared from the corner of the room. "I'm...sorry, you guys. But, Greg, I need to talk to you." Stacy said awkwardly, knowing she stepped into a moment that should have only been just the two of them.

"Okay, its fine," Cuddy said softly. She pressed her lips together and smiled at House who looked back at her, not wanting her to go. "I'll be right outside your room," she told him. She walked away from his bed and by Stacy as Stacy stepped further into the room.

"It won't take that long," Stacy told her, trying to reassure her that she can be back with House soon. Cuddy nodded in understanding and slid open the door to step out and closed it behind her. Stacy took the spot that Cuddy vacated, and saw House's gaze linger towards the door. She sighed, "Greg, really? What were you thinking?"

He lifted his eyebrows and looked down into his lap. "I wasn't," he stated flatly.

"Well, you know this slows everything down for you. We have to wait until you get released before I can set up a court date because I don't know when that will be yet; and I don't think if we were to schedule it now and reschedule it later if we had to, that they will like the reason being because you almost killed yourself on herion and isn't out of the hospital yet as a real great way to win anyone over." She paused and studied his expression. "Unless, you did this to slow things down." His eyes shifted around the room uncomfortably. "Greg...look at me," his gaze fell upon her. "Did you do this to slow things down?"

"That wasn't the whole reason."

"Greg," said sternly.

He hesitated, trying to find the right words to express how he felt. After a few seconds with no easy way, he just came out and said it. "I don't know if I want to be a doctor anymore."

Stacy took a seat on Cuddy's cot and her shoulders slumped down, "so you'd rather get high on every drug you can get your hands on and risk death everytime?" She waited for a reaction from him and didn't get one. "Greg," she pointed in the direction of the hall where Cuddy disappeared. "She cares about you! I know you know it now..do you not care about her feelings or do you not-"

"Of course I care about her feelings! Why the hell do you think I feel like such a bastard right now?" he shouted. "I wasn't thinking! I wasn't thinking about the interaction with what I did..I didn't think that she'd...fuck! You sound just like Wilson with your didn't you think about Cuddy and-"

"James? What do you mean?...Greg, when did you-"

"Forget it."

"No. When did you talk to James about what happened?" she stood up and leaned forward to look closely at him as though to see if anything were wrong.

He pushed her hand off of him that found his forehead, "get away from me, you're not a doctor," he said stubbornly.

"But, you saw James. Greg, were you hallucinating?"

"No."

"You understand why I'm asking, right? You have before, so, if you did you can say so and-"

"And what? Lead you to think I have some neurological symptom and need to send someone rooting around in my brain? No. I didn't hallucinate Wilson!"

"Then what was it?"

House avoided eye contact by looking down. "I must have dreamed it."

"Oh, right, that makes sense...before you were considered dead, you, had a little dream," she said sarcastically, not believing him.

"It makes more sense than a hallucination!" House shouted back, looking at her angry, as she continued to stand at the right of him. "When would I have had time for that? Even though dreams seem long when you're in them, they only last seconds!"

"They can last longer."

"True, but, they can also last seconds! There's nothing wrong with me, Stacy!"

"Have you told Lisa this?"

"What?"

"That you dreamed of James...hallucinated, James," House scowled when she added the last part of her statement.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because...she might freak out like you did, and I don't want her to."

Stacy crossed her arms over her chest, "so, you're not letting her know what's going on. You prefer to keep her at arm's length?"

"No," he retorted.

"Then dammit, Greg, tell her! Tell her what is going on! You'll never get anywhere with her if you keep this up."

"According to everyone, including her, I need to focus on getting my medical license back, so I think working on things with her will derail me from that so-"

"Don't make excuses."

"I'm not!"

Stacy sighed and looked at him sympathetically, "you do all this...you admitted it was partly to slow things down...so, I'm going to ask you this once," she walked closer to his bed, "do you really not want your medical license back?"

"Honestly?"

"That would be nice."

"I need more time to think about it."

She tilted her head and looked at him with sad eyes. "Why have you been going along with this if that's what you needed? Why did you resort to what you did?"

"I told you, it wasn't all because of that. And I went along with it, because I thought I had to. No one sees me as anything else...I don't see me as anything else. So, if 'Gregory House' were to come back, well, then, so would the diagnostician."

She placed her left hand gently over his right, "why don't we just take this one step at a time. We'll work on getting 'Gregory House' back in the world and among the living, and you can figure out what to do with him from there. Take your time, think it through, if that's what you decide to do, then fine, but if not...the Greg House I remember was pretty smart, and I think he could do whatever he wants if he chooses to do something different." He smiled softly at her as she released his hand and started walking towards the door and turned to look at him one last time. "And let Lisa in, Greg. Tell her what's going on, what you're experiencing. You need someone in this...don't push her away."

He watched Stacy leave and a few seconds later Cuddy walked in. "Hey," she said softly, walking back to her cot to sit.

"Hey," he answered, tracking her with his eyes as she moved across the room. "There's a few things we need to talk about."...


	25. Author's Note

A/N- Sorry this isn't an update like some of you may have thought, but I wanted to let you all know that I'm currently re-reading this story because it's been so long since I updated and I want the next chapter to flow the same way the story has been so far. This has been the one that I put the most thought into out of all my stories trying to get it just right, imagining it's the way I would want the show to continue on with the story of Wilson that was given to us. So please hang in there with me. I'm hoping a new chapter will be ready and posted within the next couple of weeks.


	26. Chapter 26

Quick A/N- So, maybe I was wrong with the "two weeks" time frame. Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it!...

* * *

"Did Stacy come by to talk about what your next step is?" Cuddy asked, thinking that was where he was going by saying they have some things to talk about.

"In a way," House answered with hesitation.

"In a way? House, what's going on?" Cuddy asked cautiously.

He held eye contact with her, while he searched for a way to tell her, and saw that she never looked away. She sat there patiently, waiting for him to speak. "When you look at me, Cuddy, what do you see?"

"What do I see?" she asked in confusion.

"Yeah, when I walk into a room, what is the first thing that generally comes to your mind?" he questioned.

"I...generally think," she paused then went on, "oh crap, House is coming, what does he want me to okay for him now?" she said with a half smirk. "But, those were the days I was Dean. Now, I see you and think, 'here's House, and good, he's still alive.' That's what I've been thinking lately."

"But, it usually has to do with something about me being a doctor?" he pressed on.

"I guess, in a way," she saw disappointment on his face. "House," she got up from the cot she was sitting on and found enough room for her to sit on the side of his bed and faced him while grabbing hold of his right hand in hers, something that she has been doing a lot of lately, and that he has begun to enjoy. "What are you trying to tell me?"

"If I were to not be a doctor right away, would you still lo- would you still like me?" he asked cautiously.

Cuddy's heart jumped when she heard that House was about to say 'love.' She knew there were those moments shared with him where she showed affection towards him, and panic when she thought something happened to him, but, love? He thought she loves him? Does that mean he loves her? She took an unsteady breath, trying to push away the tingly sensation that took over her body at the idea of maybe they were closer to being together again then she thought when she noticed that he was still looking at her, waiting for her to answer the question that she had yet to do. "House," she said in a serious tone. "When I said that I'd be here for you to get through what you need to get through, to do what you need to do, that includes everything. Whatever your decision is."

"But, that's still not an answer to my question," he pointed out.

"You want to know if I'll still like you if you were just Greg House, and not Dr. Greg House?" she restated.

"That was the question," he said, hating that he was starting to feel nervous by her repeating what he asked instead of answering.

"What do you think?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand a little more.

He looked down at his hand when he felt the tighter squeeze and kept his eyes down. "I think you don't know, and that's why you're trying to not directly answer the question that is out there."

Cuddy couldn't help but smile and shake her head which got his attention seeing it in the corner of his eye and looked up to face her again. "That right there," she said while freeing one of her hands from holding his to use to point at him. "That is you. It doesn't matter what you are, House. You can be a doctor, or you can not be. Your way of reading into every situation, in tune with everything around you, not letting anyone be able to get away with anything unless you decide to allow it, is what makes you, you. So yes, to answer your question," she said with a slightly raised tone and leaned her head forward, "I will always like you for you," she paused and saw that he looked happy with her answer and she continued. "I might get mad or frustrated with you from time to time, but, whatever you are, doctor, or not, I'll be there, liking you." She paused again and smirked at him, "because I feel I owe it to Wilson."

He looked down and let out a laugh, "okay." He looked back up at her, his expression serious again, "I think I need more time to think this whole doctor thing through."

"Well then, take that time."

Relief waved over him with her words, "thank you." He looked up at her and saw the clock on the wall, noticing the time read 11:30. "Aren't you supposed to be at work right now?"

She shrugged her shoulders, "yeah, I probably should be there," she looked down at their hands that were back to being intertwined with each other. "Can I ask you something before I go?"

"What?"

"Were you... going to say 'love' when you asked if I would still like you if you weren't a doctor?"

He hesitated, not expecting that to be the question. "Did you want me to say love?"

"I don't know yet. Do you want me to love you?"

"I don't know."

"Well, we have time to think about it," she awkwardly let go of his hand and leaned down to grab her purse and House watched as she bent down.

"Yeah, until we figure it out though, I have been going through kind of a dry spell with faking my death and all, so friends with benefits might, help me along with this whole resurfacing, trying to deal with Wilson stuff."

She rolled her eyes and looked up at him, standing up straight to face him again. "You sound like you're making improvements on being yourself all on your own," she took a step towards him and he dropped his right arm over the side of the bed, with it grazing her leg. Her whole body reacted to his touch that she tried to ignore. She bent down slightly and grabbed hold of his hand again and leaned closer to him and planted a kiss on his forehead. "That's all you get right now."

He smiled as she pulled away and started walking towards the door to leave, "okay."

She turned back to look at him again, her expression showing how badly she wanted to stay. "I'll have my sister watch Rachel again tonight. I'll be back when I'm done at the hospital. " He nodded, and watched as she exited and kept his eye on her through the glass until he couldn't see her anymore.

He sat quietly looking down into his lap thinking how if Wilson hadn't sent that DVD Cuddy never would have come back into his life. "Still can't leave me be, can you? But, thank you," he said to empty room, thinking back to when Wilson lost Amber, he spoke as though she was there with him, and now, House couldn't believe he was doing the same thing. But, he understood why Wilson did it, it makes things easier...


	27. Chapter 27

House was getting used to people coming in and out of his room to check up on him since Cuddy left. Foreman came in to tell him that he found the herion in his system, and since that was the reason of having to come to the Princeton, that he wants to keep him there another night for observation, but after that he was free to go.

House was thinking of putting up a fight, not wanting to stay there any longer, but, then he thought about not really knowing if Cuddy held the hotel for him or checked out so, until he talked to her again, he wasn't sure if he had anywhere to go. He was, for as far as he knew, homeless. So, whether he wanted to be there or not, he had to be somewhere. So he agreed, and went back to watching television after Foreman left until two hours later when someone else opened the door.

"Hi," Chase said with a half smile, and walked over to the cot and sat down.

"What are you doing here?"

"Seeing how you are," Chase answered, glancing at the television screen when House turned it off. "How's your leg?" Chase asked, looking back at him.

"It hurts," he answered bluntly, looking at his leg then at Chase.

"That's good!"

"What makes that good?" House asked, sounding his usual annoyed self that Chase smiled at when he heard his tone.

"It means that you're able to focus on it," he paused and thought of another way to put it. "Remember that time that you were trying to not take Vicodin? And you broke your hand?" he paused again to think back. "Or at least, I think you did," he looked away from House, down towards the floor to think. "Maybe I have it wrong-"

"Yeah, yeah, hurt hand, I get it."

"Right, you hurt it to take the focus off the leg. You're thinking about the leg again," he restated gleefully, while pointing to it, "which means, you're dealing with," he caught himself to not try and bring it all back to the surface, "everything that happened, a little bit better. You feel the pain in your leg." He smiled at House, "see?"

House stared at him blankly in silence for a few seconds which led Chase to believe that he didn't get it, which worried him a little, until House finally spoke. "You are way to cheery for having taken over my job."

"But, you see my point?" Chase asked trying to be more serious.

"Yeah."

"So, aside from the leg, and everything, you okay?"

"Yeah, everything is peachy."

"Well, you're turning into an ass again, that's a start."

House scowled at him, "you're lucky I can't fire you... again."

"Sorry," Chase said looking down sheepishly. "It takes time. There's nothing wrong with missing him you know, but, you have to eventually be you again."

"Yeah, that's what everyone keeps telling me," he answered, looking down at his lap, away from Chase. "That I have to resurface and be Dr. House."

"You don't want to be?" he questioned.

"I didn't realize this was a therapy session."

"Alright, don't answer that if you don't want to."

"I don't want to."

"Okay. Well, I should get back," he said when he sensed he found himself in a spot in the conversation he wasn't quite sure how to derail himself out of, and knew House wasn't going to do it either which would lead just awkward silence. He walked over to the door to let himself out but, thought of something that he wanted House to know. "You know, if you decided to come back here, I'd be okay with working for you again."

"Why would you be okay with that? Didn't you leave here while I still had it for that reason? You wanted to branch out and do other things and not be stuck working for me?" he questioned with confusion.

Chase shrugged his right shoulder. "Yeah, I suppose. But," he raised his right eyebrow and twisted his mouth, "at least while we all thought you were dead I was able to say I did it. It was weird though," he paused, thinking back to when he thought House wasn't alive. "There were a lot of times I wished I could have called you to ask for an opinion, when I thought you weren't around," House saw the sad expression flash across Chase's face and went away before he continued. "So, yeah," he said slightly cheerfully. "I'd be okay with things going back to the way they were because, well, things just aren't the same without you around is all." Chase lingered for a response from House, and when he saw that he wasn't going to get one he started to turn to face the door again. "Anyway, I'll check in on you later."

* * *

House had been flipping through the channels on the television in his room for hours and couldn't find anything to settle on. He turned it off and sighed heavily while looking at the clock. It was 9:15. He turned his head to look at the cot that Cuddy used. She said that she'd come by later but she has yet to show up.

He lowered the bed to lay flat and pulled the blankets up closer to his face and closed his eyes wondering where she could be. It's not like he had any claim on her. They aren't anything but an old friend helping out another old friend, if he even had the right to call himself that yet. But still, the fact that she wasn't there bugged him. He opened his eyes back up, and repositioned the bed so he wasn't laying flat anymore. He opted against sleep out of boredom and instead thought about continuing flipping through the channels, but, his eyes wandered back to the clock then the cot, wondering where she was.

He was still thinking of Cuddy a half hour later when he heard the door to his room open. He jerked his head around, away from the cot, expecting to see Cuddy, but instead, was greeted by Thirteen. "Hi, I came over to see how you're doing," she said making her way to the side of the bed and chose the chair to sit on near the cot to sit on, the first person he saw choose that.

"Doesn't anyone in my old department work anymore?" he asked, watching as she made herself comfortable.

She looked up skeptically at him, after she crossed her legs and smoothed out her pants, "when did we ever work in that department? I remember you sleeping a lot. And anyway, I just came here to make sure my murderer, when I need him, didn't check out early. Because that would ruin everything for me," she said with a half smile.

"I thought in my sleep. That was part of my process, and thanks for the concern," he said sarcastically.

"Okay," she said nodding her head in understanding. "Then walking away from our patients to visit our old boss is our process." She studied him, and saw that even though he was answering her comments as he generally always had, she could still tell the difference. The sadness he was trying to bury down. "It gets easier, House. To deal with a loss of someone you care about," Thirteen told him, with House knowing she meant her brother.

"It shouldn't."

"You think that now. I thought that too. That if I started being myself again then, it was like I was saying that I didn't care. But, you need to be yourself, House. You can't be miserable all your life," she paused, "well, more then you were," she added with a smirk. "It's okay to be...happy, to move on."

"I know," he answered quietly.

"Do you?"

"I'm not a moron," he snapped.

"Alright," she said putting her hands up in surrender.

"It just feels too soon. Every time I start acting like, and feeling like myself, I feel, guilty."

"You have to let that go, House. You have to remember him, keep him with you, and, live again. Moving on is a healthy thing to do, to enjoy the people around you who care about you." She paused and waited for him to say something back. But, when she saw that he just quietly sat there, she hoped that he at least heard her and understood what she was trying to tell him. But, she didn't want to push him anymore then she already had. So, she stopped, to let him think things over. "I think I've said my peace. I'll leave you alone," she said while standing up from the chair she was sitting on and walked over to the door and turned around letting House know she had something else to tell him, just like Chase. "I am glad you're okay, House. Despite what you think of yourself, the world would notice you're gone. We all did when we thought you were." She looked away from him to her right in thought, "it was a lot less quiet and boring without those snide remarks of yours that I used to think we pretty harsh at first, but then, I realized," she looked back at him, thoughtful, "you were trying to make us better doctors."

"No I wasn't. I genuinely thought you were all idiots."

She let out a laugh, "okay, House." She opened the door wider, "I'll see you later. Hopefully," she stepped out the door and swung back around, "and I mean before I come to you for my offing."

He watched as Thirteen disappeared and thought about everything that both Chase and she said to him. The one common thing was expressing how they both thought the world wouldn't be the same without him when they thought he was gone, with them both expressing in their own way, they were glad he was okay now. But mostly, one of the last things Thirteen told him was repeating in his head. To keep Wilson with him, to remember him, and to enjoy the people around him who care. He looked back at the clock, wondering if he was going to see Cuddy before he went to sleep...


	28. Chapter 28

Cuddy sat at her desk, knowing she should have left a long time ago. Since she left House, all she was able to think of was him. Was it still love she felt for him? Or was it because she knows how much he needs someone, she made herself that person because she cared enough about him to be that person? This whole time while in therapy, she was working on just trying to get to the point to see him again, to talk to him. But love him again?

She sighed heavily, unable to determine what the feelings she felt for him really were. All she knew for sure is she was invested enough in him to see him through everything he needs to. Whether they end up back together or not, she knew at least that. She should just leave it at that without making things complicated.

She stood up to leave, and another thought crossed her mind that made her sit back down. What if he wants them together again? Is her being there at his side the best thing for him if she wasn't sure? The last thing he needs is to be led on. His life is complicated enough without the added baggage of wondering about what they are and misreading everything.

She let out a laugh to herself when she thought misreading was always their relationship; whether it was colleagues, friends, or a couple. They almost never were on the same page, so why should that stop her now? She knew why, deep down, she knew it: because everything was different now.

Even if she ignored what happened to them before. If she pretended that what he did never happened, and they just started up again because they chose they both wanted it, there was still that chance that they may not succeed even if they both truly wanted it. And it could end up blowing up the way it did before, then where will that lead them? Would she even try to talk to him again if he did something to her a second time? Maybe. There was always that 'maybe' that hung in the air. Because it was House. However, there was one main component that was missing, one major key that always pieced them back together when they were too blind to see how the pieces were supposed to fit back together themselves, and that, was Wilson.

Tears flowed down freely and for the first time. She was able to cry for Wilson without anyone around. Foreman was with her when she found out, then she had to get Rachel, and then House. This was the first time that she was able to lock herself in her office, with everyone that would need her for anything already gone for the day, and cry.

She scooted her chair away from her desk, walked over to her door and locked herself in and went to the bathroom that was connected to her office just like a Princeton, and sat on the toilet lid, and put her head in her hands.

Her palms immediately became wet with tears. She opened her eyes and looked at them and saw her mascara had dripped onto her hands with her tears. She used the outside of her right hand to brush the ones that were falling on her cheek as she cried for a little while longer. She didn't realize how long she had it all inside of her until she started. As badly as she wanted to stop, she couldn't. So she just continued, and tried to keep her face dry, brushing away the tears before they got a chance to roll completely off of her cheek.

After a few minutes, feeling like the crying was subsiding for the moment, she stood up to look in the mirror and saw what a mess her make-up looked like in that short of time. "Oh, I'm a mess," she said to no one as she grabbed some toilet paper to blotch her cheeks dry.

She tossed it in the trash and planted her palms on the sink and looked straight ahead into her reflection. Even if she tried to clean herself up, it would be obvious to anyone that she had been crying.

Her thoughts went back to House. How can she be strong for him, tell him he can get through it, when she goes there looking like she's been crying for the last hour?

She sighed and tried to clean herself up a little bit more, to try and make it seem like she was fine. That she can be the shoulder for him, instead of them breaking down on each others shoulder. But, it wasn't working. No matter what she did, she could still tell, which means he will.

She paced her bathroom for a few minutes, trying to decide on what to do, when she finally decided on what seemed like the best thing to do. She walked through the doorway of her bathroom which she didn't even bother closing due to her office already being locked and went to her desk phone to call Foreman to pass the word on to House that she'll see him tomorrow...


End file.
